


Who Says You Can't Go Home Again?

by JKrlin



Series: Mafia Reborn! [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: Family, Gen, Organized Crime, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 102,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKrlin/pseuds/JKrlin
Summary: Italian mobster Vito Scaletta is reborn as mafia heir Tsunayoshi Sawada.





	1. I Deserve Better

 

 

 

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Vito."

Fucking cocksucker. Did Lincoln think that Vito was going to just lay down and die without some fucking dignity? Fuck no. Leaning against the bar table, coughing up blood, Vito checked the magazine of his gun.

Sighing at what he saw, Vito let the gun and its magazine fall from his hands. "Damn thing's empty anyway."

Lincoln lowered his gun, his hands dropping to his sides. Vito could see one of his dead capos leaning on the other side of the bar. He was still holding his pistol. With more than a little difficulty, Vito began dragging himself toward it.

"I always thought that you'd be different from those other cocksuckers," Vito grunted in a half-hearted attempt of distracting Lincoln, “that fat Derek Pappalardo, Alberto Clemente, Leo Galante… but no." The feeling in his left leg suddenly went numb, Vito had to stop moving and cringed in pain. "Always somebody waiting to fuck me!"

Vito raised his head to meet Lincoln's eyes. Lincoln had taken a few steps toward him. Vito knew that if he tried to reach for the gun, now, Lincoln would knock him down in no time. "Nobody forced you to get greedy," Lincoln said pointedly. "You could have sat back, been content, and watched the money roll in. But nah, that wasn't enough for you."

"Fuck you!" Vito snapped. Fuck the gun. Vito slid a hand into his back pocket, making it look like he was nursing his bloody abdomen, "I gave up everything for this life. Everything!"

All the shit that Vito had to go through: the war, prison, Frankie telling him to stay out of her life, getting his fucking house burned to the ground by some crazy micks, getting fucked over by Marcano and the Commission, watching Henry get butchered in broad fucking daylight, losing Joe...

"Look where I ended up," Vito muttered. His vision was going blurry now. His fingers clenched around the handle of his switchblade. "I deserved better."

Vito lunged for Lincoln, but a bullet suddenly went right through one of his lungs. He choked, dropped his knife, and fell to his knees. He could barely feel a goddamn thing below his waist.

Was this how Carlo felt? Running a more or less decent operation, having a loyal point man always on the job, and then getting completely fucked over by that point man. Carlo must have felt like a king, thinking that he had had it all figured out when Joe had raised his gun to Vito's head.

Lincoln had survived a shot to the head, busted Vito out of that fucking freezer, and gave Vito some quality payback time with Grecco. In that first meeting with Lincoln, Cassandra, and Burke, Vito had sure as hell felt like a king having his war council for the next conquest, ready to take over New Bordeaux, with Lincoln Fucking Clay paving the way.

"Fuck you," Vito hissed at Lincoln.

With another gunshot to the head, Vittorio Antonio Scaletta knew that it was all finally fucking over.

X

It should have been fucking over.

There was no chance of Vito going to heaven. He wouldn't have complained about settling in hell. At least in hell, he'd probably get the chance to punch out his old man for leaving his drunken debt to Frankie and Mama. Vito could get Henry to give the full story about turning rat. Maybe he could even see Joe again. Joe must have went straight to work as a wise guy for one of the devil's capos by now; banging as many she-devil broads who'd open up their legs for him.

Instead, Vito found himself waking up as a noisy, drooling baby Jap in the Land of the Rising Sun.

The first five years were too confusing for Vito to really make sense of. Between shitting his pants, learning the language, and falling over his own two feet every time he tried to walk, Vito was hardly in the right mind to rationalize things properly. He spent all of those five years eating, sleeping, crying, and pissing nonsensically.

By his sixth birthday, Vito finally found the time and the mental capacity to reflect on everything that'd come to pass, and to reflect on his new life as Tsunayoshi Sawada.

The dad, Iemitsu Sawada, was never home. He apparently worked internationally, usually on some bullshit construction job drilling for oil in the Arctic. Vito knew that it was bullshit because of the amount of money that came in the mail simply couldn't come from construction jobs. No, he had to be on the take. Nana must be one of his favorite dames for him to keep sending money, but not good enough to warrant him spending much time at the same house she and their son lived in.

And then there was Nana Sawada. Vito couldn't call her "Mama" like she constantly tried to make him say. He had mixed feelings on Antonio Scaletta, but Vito could never dishonor Maria Scaletta's memory by calling another woman "Mama." Still, Vito couldn't say Nana was a bad mother. Between the Sawada patriarch's money rolling in and Nana's caring watch over Vito – or Tsuna, rather – this life's childhood was far better and cleaner than his last one.

On his sixth birthday, Iemistu brought a friend home. It was an old man, probably Tsuna's grandfather from the way he acted. Vito might have actually liked him if it weren't for the fact that everything the old man said and did reminded Vito too much of Leo Galante. Iemitsu's friend might have been a kind elderly man who wanted to spoil his grandson, but Vito'd faced backstabbing from seemingly friendly father figures one too many times to let his guard down around him.

Plus, there was that weird dream of the old man placing his hand on Vito's forehead, igniting an orange flame that didn't seem to burn either of them. That dream haunted Vito for a long while after the old man and Iemistu left. Eventually, that particular dream was replaced by other ones.

Dreams about his old life: driving fast getaway cars, parachuting into hostile kraut territory, beating up no-name schmucks for fifty dollars a head for a three hundred dollar cut, and all of the dirty work Vito had to do to finally become somebody worth respecting.

A part of Vito wanted to stay at home, be a good son, and take the second chance to live like a normal civilian. There was no Joe Barbaro around the neighborhood to get Tsuna into trouble, and the Sawada household was never strapped for cash. If Vito really wanted it, he could probably stay on the straight and narrow path for the rest of his new life.

Then, Vito dreamt of finding Henry's body, of seeing him so cut up, bloody and brutalized. Six-year-old Tsunayoshi should have been scared out of his wits at seeing such a macabre image, but all Vito could feel was an uncontrollable rage at one of a hundred failures that nearly got him killed and got plenty of his friends killed.

Where Vito grew up, the only guys who mattered were the guys who had the balls to take what they wanted. As the years passed, Vito learned that that lifestyle wasn't mutually exclusive to his own neighborhood. Lincoln Clay was living, breathing proof of that.

At age seven, the same age Vito Scaletta was when he and his family had moved to Empire Bay, Tsunayoshi Sawada hitched a ride out of Namimori to the next town over. It was a place without the Hibari family's iron fist keeping a leash on the local gangs and mobsters. A place where no one would be able to easily connect Vito no-name with hair dyed black and cut short to the missing spiky brown haired, brown eyed son of the innocent Nana Sawada.

X

Vito started out doing small-time crap, of course. He couldn't really find work as hired muscle or as a reliable driver with his childish body so small and striking out in the height department. So, Vito took to stealing. If there was one thing Vito had to give credit to Tsunayoshi, it was his undeniable adorableness that women could never resist. Vito never outright begged, but walking in tattered clothes and garbage bags down the streets or the local parks did more than enough to catch a good Samaritan's attention. Some folks were too attentive or cautious around Vito for him to take any more than a charitable ice cream cone or half-eaten bag of chips, but on Vito's good days, he could snatch seven or eight wallets easily.

Obviously, it couldn't last. Word would get around, eventually, that there was a homeless kid robbing people blind. Fortunately, once the cops started looking into it, so did the local crooks. Vito got picked up by a two-bit gang, and a pretty young one, at that. They were the kind of trouble-making kids stealing shit and smoking dope that Joe's friend Marty might have gotten mixed up with if not for Joe being around. The gang was full of cocky little shits and would barely last a year before they pissed off the wrong people, but their boss was a bright, young ambitious stud who could tell Vito would be fast enough and smart enough to have on his side.

Vito was making long-terms plans of getting the gang's act together, of whipping them into shape to move on from robbing soda packs from grocery stores and pennies from their little siblings' piggy banks, when a big job opportunity came in. An art show was going to be held in town, the boss explained. They and the other gangs from all across the city were going to rush the gallery and take as many paintings as they could, along with whatever else the art goers had on hand. Word was that the art dealer running the show only had six guards posted around the gallery, so all the gangs thought they were in for a big payday.

Boy, were they fucking wrong. Those six bodyguards might as well have been six Brian O'Neils pumped full of steroids and god only knows what else. Hell, they had to be on something to conjure up those multi-colored flames. Vito was pretty sure that someone had spiked his juice box when he saw those things. It looked like something out of that manga crap the other members of Vito's gang liked to read.

One of the guards knocked Vito out cold with a single slap. When Vito woke up, he was surrounded by dozens of unconscious teenage gangsters and hoodlums. The guards were standing over the bodies and chatting quietly to themselves. Vito's eyes searched the art gallery for an escape route till he spotted a nearby open window. Quiet as he could be, Vito tried to make his getaway.

Immediately, someone caught Vito by the back of his shirt collar. Instinctively, Vito turned around to bite his captor's fingers, kick his shins, bring him to his knees, and poke his eyes out, in that order. Unfortunately, for all of Vito's struggling, his captor was hardly affected.

It was the art dealer. His eyes were wide, shocked at what he saw in Vito's face. Speaking as if the wrath of God was about to unleash itself on him if he spoke otherwise, the art dealer whispered, "Vongola Primo?"

"Name's Vito," Vito growled.

Vito could hear the bodyguards whispering further. "Vongola... missing son... CEDEF... Sawada..."

For a second, Vito was worried, if he wasn't going to get axed outright, he was going to be sent back to Namimori, right that instant.

Makoto Kozato was the art dealer's name, and before Vito could even try getting a word in, the two were standing before the front door to the Kozato family house.

A girl a year or two younger than Vito waddled from the house's front steps into Makoto's arms. "We missed you, Daddy!" the girl squealed in delight. "Why couldn't you come home before going to the artsy show?"

"It's called an art show," Makoto corrected, affectionately holding tightly to the girl as he spun her around in the air. "Where's Enma and your mother?"

"Mommy's teaching Enma and me how to sew stuff," the girl said brightly. "But Enma keeps poking Enma's fingers with the needles." The girl looked past Makoto and spotted Vito. "Who are you?" she asked curiously.

Vito shrugged and ducked his head. He wasn't too sure how to feel about this new arrangement.

"He's yours and Enma's new brother," Makoto answered as he put the girl down so that she and Vito were face to face. "Vito, meet Mami, my sweet little girl. Mami, meet Vito Kozato. Let's get inside introduce him to Enma."

X

Makoto Kozato was a somewhat well-known fine arts dealer by day and the head of the Simon Crime Family by night. Of that, Vito caught on to pretty quickly.

Vito had no idea why Makoto had called him "Primo" when they'd first met, but it was clear Makoto saw through Vito's disguise right off the bat and recognized him as Iemitsu Sawada's son. Tsuna's dad must have put the word out that he was missing. However, instead of shipping Vito back to Namimori, Makoto decided to formally adopt him and maintain his disguise. It had to be some sort of power play on the Simon Family's end, to one-up Iemitsu's crime family (which might be called the Vongola Family, or the Primo Family, or who the fuck knows! No one told Vito anything whenever he'd asked. Not even Enma or Mami).

In any case, Vito decided to stay. Makoto saw something in Vito that would be beneficial to the Simon Family, and Vito saw something valuable in being raised as Makoto's adoptive son. Makoto was the boss of his family, meaning that Enma was more than likely going to his successor. The Simon Family was small, but with Vito growing up as Enma's brother and as (hopefully) the equivalent of a childhood consigliere, that wouldn't always be the case.

And Jesus Christ, Enma really needed someone to teach him how to act like a boss. Residence in the Kozato household meant enrolling in school, and Vito had to watch the other kids push Enma around like he was their personal chew toy. Enma perpetually had bandages covering his bruised face, and his clothes were so torn from the roughhousing and bullying that he had to sew them back together himself.

Makoto and the Kozato matriarch both had full time jobs, crime-related or otherwise, and with the bodyguards too busy keeping the more serious threats at bay (hired assassins, rival families, low-level upstarts, more people wielding non-burning fire in their hands and on their foreheads), the Simon heirs were more or less left to defend themselves from the schoolyard bullies.

By the end of the first week at his new home, Vito confronted Enma about the bullying problem. "Why do you let those assholes walk all over you?" Vito asked as he, Enma, and Mami were washing the dinner dishes. Enma and Vito stood on stepping stools over the sink while Mami sat on the edge of the counter as she dried the plates with a clean rag.

Surprised by Vito's loud voice, Enma jittered on his stool and nearly fell over. "What?"

Mami rolled up her rag and whipped at the side of Vito's head. "Bad Vito! You know da rules! Mommy's gonna spank you if you keep saying bad words!"

Vito rolled his eyes. Getting his bottom spanked was the least of his worries. "I'm serious. Enma's getting his ass spanked 24/7. You don't think he should be doing something about that?"

Enma's shoulders slumped, as did his head. "What's the point?" he said despondently. "They're never gonna stop."

"They're not stopping because you're not doing a damn thing about it!" Vito pointed out sharply. He dodged another whip from Mami.

"It's just how it is," Enma continued in the same tone. "No one likes the Simon Family, and no one will."

"Those bullies said the same thing about you wetting the bed," Vito said, causing Enma to flush in embarrassment. "That you'd never stop doing it."

"But you did stop!" Mami cheered triumphantly.

"They only know about that because you told them, Mami," Enma whined to his little sister. "They just laughed even more, and..." As Mami's tears suddenly appeared along her eyelids, threatening to burst, Enma rapidly backpedaled, "And you did a good job! They have to make fun of me for something else now!" In a flash, Mami's downcast frown was replaced by her innocent smile, a smile mirrored by an indulgent Enma.

God, Vito wished he was old enough for a smoke, or a drink, or something to get the edge off. "My point is that you don't let others tell you who you are, what you are, and what you can do. Those bullies tell you that you're less than dirt? Fuck 'em. Other families say the Simon Family are at the bottom of the food chain? Fuck 'em, too. You stand up, knock them down, and show them who's really boss."

Enma became outwardly downcast again. "But I'm not the boss. Dad is."

"You're going to be  _the_ boss, someday," with Vito directly by his side, as Enma's right-hand. If Vito can't be his own boss, then he'll make Enma one. "It don't matter you only stopped wetting the bed, yesterday. Tomorrow, I'm going to show you how being a boss is done."

On the next school day, the usual cast of wannabe wise guys surrounded the three Kozatos by their favorite swing set. Enma kept Mami behind him while Vito walked up to the head of the posse. The kid smirked and sneered and smelled of bad breath.

All it took was one head-butt and one punch to toss the kid flat on his ass and literally send him crying back home to mommy.

From the looks on the bully's friends' faces, they were not expecting to see that. The kid must have been the alpha dog of their little group. Oh, little did they know that was going to change today.

Vito snapped his fingers. Mami walked up and handed him a small grocery bag. While Enma stepped up slowly and hesitantly to stand beside his siblings, Vito dug his hand into the bag and pulled out a handful of bite-sized candies. Vito tossed it into the crowd, the boys catching them zealously.

The posse didn't immediately start munching on the freebies. They looked up to Vito, and waited respectfully. Vito had wanted to follow through with the tough guy act completely, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Go on and stuff yourselves," Vito said. "Courtesy of Vito Kozato, Enma Kozato, and Mami Kozato. You do what we say, there's more of that for you in the future."

Give it a few years. If Vito had his way, he and the Simon Family were going to be running this town. If anybody gets in his way, then they're either going to end up working for him or not at all.


	2. Flood of Blood

A storm was brewing something fierce tonight. Mama Kozato had long since tucked the kids into bed, but Vito couldn't sleep. The raindrops kept hitting the window above his head. It reminded him too much of the day he killed Carlo.

A bolt of lightning went off. In the brief flash of light, Vito could see Mami dart out of her bed and hide underneath Enma's. Enma beckoned for Mami to get out. After another lightning flash, Vito could see Enma shutter uncontrollably, but he still tried to coax Mami out of her hiding place. After the third flash, Mami was crying and buried herself in Enma's arms.

With an exasperated sigh, Vito pulled himself up and dragged his weary body toward Enma and Mami. "What's wrong?" he questioned as plopped down next to the pair.

Enma, too focused on his sister, avoided Vito's eyes. "The lightning reminds her of gunshots," Enma quietly said. "We were there when Papa's first Mountain Guardian was killed. He kept us safe."

Ah, so it's a sob story. Just Vito's luck that he has to deal with a couple of traumatized kids when he was dealing with his own traumatic nightmares and insomnia.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Vito said, mostly out of instinctive courtesy. "What was his name?"

"Silvio Vizzini," Enma answered. "We called him Uncle Husky."

Huh. Husky. Vizzini. Vito suddenly forgot all about Carlo Falcone and was brought back to his soldier boy days.

"My Mama used to tell me bedtime stories," Vito blatantly lied. Maria Scaletta made sure Vito and Frankie prayed regularly and read the Bible, but bedtime stories never really happened. Regardless, some white lies and a little embellishment wouldn't hurt.

"Bedtime stories?" Enma asked in confusion, apparently unfamiliar with the term.

"They're what they sound like. When my Mama – not yours and Mami's mom, but my real Mama – tucked me into bed and I was making a fit, she told me stories to keep me distracted, to help me go to sleep. I can tell try telling you and Mami one of the stories she used to tell me."

Mami was still silently sobbing. Enma nodded.

With a deep breath that gave away the hardened, old soul hidden underneath Tsunayoshi's innocent youthfulness, Vito began with, "It was July, 1943. The Nazis – you know what Nazis are, right?" Enma was flipping through channels on the TV the other day, came across an old-fashioned World War 2 documentary. Enma nodded again. "The Nazis took over this island, Sicily. The 504th Parachute Infantry was sent in to liberate it. The mission was codenamed Operation Husky."

Time for that embellishment. "An infantryman named Scaletta led Operation Husky, but when he and his troops were flying over Sicily, they got hit by flak and had to bail out. Luckily, the local resistance saved their asses. Not someone to let a good favor go unrepaid, Scaletta went off-mission to help the resistance with a problem of their own."

It was actually a group vote between Vito and the other two survivors that decided that they'd help out the resistance, but Enma and Mami didn't need to know that. "Scaletta and his army attacked the Nazi stronghold. It was a giant castle, stretching even higher than the tallest skyscrapers. Higher than the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty. Scaletta had to climb a hundred staircases and fight a thousand Nazis just to get to the top. Once he was there, thousands more Nazis came from all over Sicily to take back the castle."

Enma's eyes were wide and attentive. He was eating Vito's story up like the child he was. "What flames did Scaletta use?"

Flames. Right. Give Vito a 1911 Semi, and he can probably kill ten men in twenty seconds flat. As far as flaming foreheads went, Vito was next to clueless. "Earth Flames," Vito answered, only because that was the type Makoto mentioned he was going to train Enma in using. "Scaletta might have been high in the sky, but the Nazis were all on the ground, in his territory. They didn't stand a chance.

"At least, that's what Scaletta had thought."

With a gasp, Enma leaned closer to Vito. "What does that mean?"

"There were too many enemy soldiers for even Scaletta to handle," and a tank shell that should've killed Vito. He still didn't know how he survived that battle while the rest of his team bit the dust. "Scaletta's army fell, the resistance members were captured, and Scaletta was brought to his knees and held at gunpoint."

Enma held his little sister tighter. "He didn't die, did he?" Enma shrieked in desperation. "He can't have died. If he already beat so many other people, then if he – I don't know, just keeps fighting, then... then..."

"Scaletta survived the battle," Vito said once Enma became silent. "Oh, Scaletta was a fighter, for sure, but he couldn't do everything alone. It took a greater man, a stronger man, a man a lot more skilled and experienced and deserving of respect than Scaletta to end the battle."

"Who?" Enma dared to speak.

Vito didn't have time to think up of a more unique, creative name, so he rolled with the truth. "Don Calo," Vito said, "the head of the Sicilian mob. An entire army of soldiers surrendered that day. Why?" Vito smirked down at Enma. "Because he told 'em to."

The flabbergasted expression on Enma's face was almost worth staying up so late in the dead of this stormy night. Vito wanted to laugh out loud, but since that would ruin the atmosphere he's built up with his story, he only continued to smirk.

Mami finally turned away from her brother and looked to Vito. With the most serious face and tone he's seen her put on, Mami said, "Enma's gonna be an even better Don than Don Calo. Better than Spaghetti," Vito cringed at the mispronunciation, "Daddy, and even better than the Vongola's boss. Then everyone will listen to him, and no one else will ever hurt our family again."

If only Frankie had had as much faith in Vito as Mami did in Enma. "That's the only way it's gotta be," Vito agreed.

X

Vito didn't like Adelheid Suzuki much when they first met. While she was still a kid and barely older than Vito, something about the way she carried herself was a bit too reminiscent of that bitch Cassandra. Call Vito egocentric and self-centered, but right up to the point Lincoln Clay decided to cut off loose ends, Vito was more than willing to compromise and split territory fairly. Cassandra? She never stopped complaining to everyone who'd be willing and unwilling to listen that she was always getting the short end of the stick. She was never happy with her cut of the profits. No, instead of a cut, she had wanted everything.

Cassandra must have been through too much bullshit to learn the value of tact. In retrospect, Vito can sympathize with her. He's certainly been through too much bullshit to be happy with his own little corner of New Bordeaux, when there was an entire city out there for the taking. That said, she was still too much of a bitch to work with on a regular basis. Even Luca Gurino, that backstabbing snake, knew how to fake smiles and a sense of comradery.

Adel was still young, so she didn't have that single-minded want to take control of everything. Nah, it was simpler than that. She had this protective streak over most of the other assorted Simon Family kids, Enma included, like a den mother or a big sister. That protectiveness was what fueled her often cold and austere attitude.

The real problem wasn't that Adel didn't like Vito much either, though that was also an issue to add to the list. The real problem was that, even for a kid, Adel was shaping up to be a decent right-hand man for Enma.

As Vito chewed on a lollipop from his makeshift throne at the top of the playground slide (and screw anyone who thought Vito was overcompensating. He's entitled to it), Vito shook his head at Adel, who was standing by the end of the slide. "Can't be done," Vito said flatly. "Softball field belongs to my guys after school. You'll have to find another place."

Steadfast, Adel intensified her icy gaze. "Kaoru can't practice unless he has privacy," she repeated. "He's too shy."

"Then he can practice slinging shit somewhere else," Vito said dismissively. Kaoru Mizuno never did him, Enma, or Mami any favors. He mostly kept to himself, so Vito was going to back up his own snot-nosed brats who extorted lunch money like the good little soldiers they were rather than throw a free bone to Kaoru. "Some of my boys tell me that the Naito family is renovating the park on the west side of town. Try heading there."

"That's Tomaso Family territory," Adel said patiently. "I don't want to risk Kaoru's safety in that neighborhood. Thanks to you and Enma, all the kids now recognize that the school is strictly under Simon Family rule. It's safer to practice here than in the park."

"It'll cost him."

"He's family," Adel said through gritted teeth. "This small favor shouldn't cost him anything."

The favor wasn't small. The runts who hung around the softball field were older kids – mobster kids at that – from the middle school. Earning their respect was far from cheap.

Vito heard footsteps echoing off the platform behind him. He turned his head to see Enma approaching.

"We should help Kaoru," Enma said. Despite his quiet voice, the typical timid tone was absent. "I don't know what it'll cost, but if Kaoru wants to learn how to play softball, he should play in a real field instead of in his backyard. We can get the other Simon kids to help out, too."

Well, if Enma's going out of his way to give his two cents on the subject... "It's still gonna cost us," Vito said. "My boys are territorial. They don't like sharing. We'll need more than bonbons and brownies to get them to give up the softball field."

"We don't need to bribe them," Adel cut in with a dark glint in her eye.

Thirty minutes after the school day ended, the Simon Middle School softball team were nursing bruised limbs and broken noses, courtesy of the Simon Liquidation Committee, of which its members were making their rounds cleaning up the softball field.

Enma, Vito, and Adel sat at the bleachers. Vito's and Enma's jaws were hanging open in stupefaction. Adel's icy exterior was finally broken by a haughty smirk.

"No one told me we had our own private security force," Vito said after a long pause.

"The Liquidation Committee is early training for the actual Simon security force," Adel corrected. "As soon as I'm enrolled in Simon Middle, my official training will start. That hasn't stopped me from getting to know my future subordinates, however."

Clever girl, and an ambitious one, too. "Why come to me and ask for my go-ahead if you already had the Committee ready to take care of your softball problem?"

"Professional courtesy," Adel answered with a side of arrogance.

Enma shuffled his feet. He hugged his legs close to his chest. "You guys really shouldn't compete against each other like this. We're all in the same family."

Adel snorted. "The Committee is family. They are loyal. Vito's goons, all his 'boys' are only as loyal as their sweet tooth." The girl gestured to the broken and whimpering junior softball players. "Look at them. They have no drive, no passion, no dying will. They are disposable and expendable, whereas the Committee is irreplaceable."

Vito narrowed his eyes at Adel. She didn't just only have ambition. She also had a grand vision on top of that. Vito was the same. That automatically made her direct competition in the Simon Family hierarchy. "My boys aren't friends of the 'family' family. They're friends of mine," Vito remedied. "They do what I say, what Enma says, and what little Mami says. You know why? Because they respect us. Why do they respect us? We didn't wait around for your Committee to make 'em learn. We showed them ourselves."

"You can't do everything on your own," Adel countered. "When it really matters, you can't rely only on half-hearted friends and paid soldiers. You can only rely on family, something you seem to not fully comprehend, Vito."

Did she really just say Vito didn't understand what it means to be part of a family? Vito Scaletta ruined any chance of reconciliation with his own family, but Vito Kozato has done nothing but be a good son and a good brother to his adoptive family. Sure, Vito gets a cut of the candies and lunch money and free reign on the playground, but the Kozato family has done plenty to earn Vito's respect, affection, and loyalty.

Makoto balanced out his vices – the hidden flasks of alcohol he kept on hand, the drugs that came through the house while being smuggled into the country, the responsibilities of being the head of an organized crime syndicate – by being a dedicated father. Iemitsu Sawada was never home, and Antonio Scaletta was too busy being a drunken deadbeat after settling in Empire Bay to be much of a father. Makoto? When he wasn't spoiling his daughter with colorful stuffed animals or indulging Enma in his video games, Makoto was letting Vito beat him at poker, helping Vito fund his schoolyard operation in a roundabout way.

Magi Kozato – named after the daughter of a Cozarto Simon, Vito is told – was a kind mother. She wasn't as morally stringent as Maria Scaletta or blissfully airheaded as Nana Sawada. Hell, Magi applauded Vito for showing Enma what it means to stand up for yourself. She was also a good listener to Vito's occasional rants about magical fire powers, super powered rings, and this world's mafia traditions in general. Aside from Vito's liberal use of foul language, the woman's patience with Vito was unprecedented, and Vito loved her all the more for it.

Mami was Vito's innocent little sister. Vito let down Francesca Scaletta too many times to count. He wasn't about to let Mami down any time soon.

Enma was what Vito could have been had he never met Joe. Vito had been pretty reticent and reclusive as a kid, but the loud and fat Barbaro kid just made too much noise for little Vito to ignore. Joe was never a perfect guy, and neither was Vito, but if Vito can show Enma that all his cowardice and fear won't get him anywhere, then at least something good would come out from Vito Scaletta's miserable life.

All of the other Simon kids? Kaoru, Julie, Koyo, Rauji, that weird girl with the shitty name, and Adel; Enma may like hanging around them, but they didn't do jack to stop the bullying around Enma – the bullying that Vito had put a stop to. And they had the balls to ask favors from Vito without any recompense?

"Fuck you," Vito snapped at Adel, mostly out of the irrepressible spite and bitterness that had suddenly spiked in his veins. He really shouldn't be so harsh with a legitimate member of the Simon Family, but he couldn't stop himself.

A look of pure rage spread across Adel's face. She made a motion to slap – scratch that, she was gonna punch Vito. Vito scrambled in his seat in a hopeless attempt to avoid the hit.

Enma got between them. Adel's punch sent Enma barreling into Vito. The brothers would have fallen over the side of the bleachers if they hadn't caught themselves on the railing. "Enma!" Adel screamed in a panic.

Vito pushed Enma off him. Enma was disoriented, probably seeing double, but he could probably at least feel Vito patting him on the back. "Nice save," Vito said. Enma shook his head to regain his bearings before sending disappointed looks at both Adel and Vito.

"We're all family," Enma reiterated. "All the other Families don't care about us. If we start fighting each other, then everyone will go back to hating us. I don't want us living like that."

"But Vito is –" Adel began before Vito cut her off.

"Adel's just being a sore –" Vito got out, before Enma raised his voice.

"I'm the boss," he kinda-sorta squealed in a high-pitched voice. "I'm going to be the boss, so you need to do what I say. We're helping Kaoru learn how to play softball. We will get the Simon Middle softball team to help him learn, and the Liquidation Committee won't bother the team again. Can we do that? Please?"

Well, look at Enma, taking charge and handing out orders to his subordinates. Vito smirked. Getting the softball team to keep the peace with the Committee was going to take some work, but seeing Enma assume command for once would be worth it. "Of course, Don Kozato," Vito said jokingly. At being called a Don, Enma had a proud smile widen tenfold. He must have really been taken by Vito's bedtime stories.

Adel still looked unhappy, but she nodded her head. "Kaoru will be happy to know you'll be helping him, Enma," she affirmed.

"Good," Enma said in an odd voice. He must not be used to talking so bluntly and resolutely and getting his way so quickly. "That's good... Are you guys gonna stop fighting now?"

"No promises," Vito and Adel said at the same time. Enma buried his head into his hands.

X

One day, Makoto took the wife and kids on a family outing to a fancy buffet. Mami wore her new dress, Enma wore his best shoes and dress shirt, and Vito brought his miniature tie, suit jacket, and fedora. Makoto's bodyguards and some of their kids also tagged along. While Vito had long since grown tolerant of Japanese cuisine; tasting some classically made bucatini had honestly brought a tear to Vito's eye. Whoever the chef they had cooking the Italian recipes deserved an instant raise for the authenticity.

When most of their party went off to snag some desserts, Vito tried to take a sip out of one of the adults' drinks. Makoto effortlessly pulled the glass out of his reach. He gave Vito a teasing smile that Vito found himself grinning back at.

"Hey, one sip won't hurt nobody," Vito said.

"Your mother wouldn't approve," Makoto said simply. "Wait until you're old enough. Then, you can drink anything you want."

"Come on," Vito insisted. "You let Mami have her chocolates and Enma have his manga." Makoto was always a spoiling father, more so for his blood children than toward Vito. "Gimme something for myself. If you won't let me try giving your wheels a spin, a little drink is the next best thing."

"I think I've already given you plenty of gifts," Makoto said. "Tsunayoshi Sawada still remains reportedly missing, and Vito Kozato continues to live freely under my care and the protection of the Simon Family."

Vito instantly lost all sense of gaiety. "You said we wouldn't talk about that."

"I said we would talk about it later, and it is six months later." Makoto lowered his voice so that their conversation would be less likely to be overheard by the other buffet-goers. "Your new identity is secure, but there are still things that we must discuss."

"Things we gotta discuss?" Vito repeated rhetorically. "What's there to discuss? My dad's some bigshot with the Vongola Family, and you think I can help your family pull a fast one on my dad's." Enma finally spilled the beans on the whole Vongola betrayal of the Simon Family, along with this world's other mafia lore and history. While Vito appreciated that Enma was starting to fully trust him, all that talk about flame types and resurrecting bullets and baby pacifiers still made his head hurt. "It's not that hard to figure out. If you've got doubts about my loyalty, you shouldn't. Your family's my family, as far as we're both concerned."

Makoto's smile never wavered. "You are very smart for your age."

"I was born a genius," Vito deliberately lied through his teeth. "That's why I left in the first place. They were holding me back." And Vito had a good thing going with the Kozatos. Ain't nobody was going to screw him over this time.

"You have skills," Makoto conceded, "but innate talent can't explain your ease in leading that childish gang of yours, your familiarity when you tell your colorful bedtime stories, or how one so young can hold so much wayward aspiration of elevating the Simon Family to grander heights. You are hiding things from me, Tsunayoshi, and as your boss, I cannot allow that."

Vito uncomfortably shimmied in his seat. Tsunayoshi was not his name. "I'm no Arcobaleno or anything like that, if that's what you're asking."

"Then tell me what you are," Makoto commanded, "because my son will not have a consigliere who lies to his boss."

And Vito didn't trust that a smart boss like Makoto wouldn't hesitate to whack a seven-year-old boy with the memories of a hardened, selfish forty-three-year-old mobster who was living under the same roof as Makoto's wife and kids. The only way Vito's plans would pan out would be if Vito grows up as Enma's right hand. The child prodigy angle was supposed to last a lot longer, but Vito apparently didn't give Makoto enough credit.

If Vito explains the truth, and if he was believed (and he probably would, considering the other bullshit that goes on with this world's mafia), Vito doubted anyone in the Simon Family would trust him. Enma and Mami loved him, but they were children. Vito was no child, and that would make people paranoid and distrustful of him.

One of Makoto's Guardians suddenly appeared and whispered something into Makoto's ear. Makoto's smile flattened as he said, "Tell the others. You know what to do." While the Guardian walked off, Makoto stood up and dragged Vito by the arm. He ignored Vito's cries of objection. They ran into Magi, Mami, and Enma. Within minutes, the whole Kozato family was whisked away in the family car and heading back home.

"Why did we leave so early?" Enma questioned in honest, naïve confusion. "I didn't get my ice cream yet." With a barely hidden pout, he gave a sidelong look at Mami, who was freely eating her own chocolate ice cream cone.

From the front seat, Magi looked over her shoulder to smile sweetly at her children. "Your father has work stuff to do at home," she said. "Don't be sad, Enma. I know you wanted to spend time with your friends after lunch, but we'll will make it up to you later." Glumly, Enma nodded in acknowledgement.

Makoto was uncharacteristically quiet during the drive home. "What's gotten you so spooked?" Vito asked him. He ignored Vito. "What did your Guardian tell you?"

No answer. No one said a damn thing, all the way up to Makoto opening the front door of their house and ushering everyone inside.

"What the fuck is going on?" Vito shouted, suppressing the pain from the backhand Magi gave him for the swear. "I'm serious! What, is there a hit out on the family? Are the cops cracking down on us? Did someone steal another important painting?"

Enma meekly pulled at a flap of Vito's suit jacket. "Vito," he pleaded nervously, "we aren't supposed to ask questions like that."

"Listen to your future boss," Makoto said sternly, squeezing Vito's shoulder enough to make him wince. "Kids, go to your room. Play your video games. I'll be in my office."

Vito was starting to really get suspicious when Magi personally escorted the kids to their bedroom. Magi was getting nervous, too. She was normally pretty subtle about hiding any weapons she kept on her person, but Vito could see that the hand she was keeping on her hip was inches away from the pistol in her hidden holster.

While Mami, hyper from her ice cream, hopped excitedly on her bed and Enma turned on the TV, Magi pulled Vito aside. Leaning down to him, she whispered, "Watch your brother and sister. Protect them."

"It'd be easier to protect them if I knew exactly what's going on," Vito whispered back. "Having a piece on hand would also help."

Magi beamed at Vito and ruffled his hair. "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite. You're a good son, Vito." The compliment made Vito blush.

Then, suddenly, it wasn't just the blood under his skin making his face go red. It was actual blood splattered across his face.

Gunshots rang out and deafened Vito's ears. A giant weight fell over Vito and pinned him down. His vision was overblown in bloody red, and actual blood got into his mouth and made him choke.

When the gunshots finally stopped, Vito found himself flailing wildly. Eventually, he managed to crawl out from under... from under Magi's body...

Vito whirled his head around. The window above his bed was destroyed, broken glass shards and bullet holes riddling the bedroom. Enma had Mami wrapped around his arms. He hugged her protectively, pressing themselves against one corner of the room. Enma's leg was bleeding, but Mami thankfully only looked shell-shocked with no other injuries.

But their mother was fucking dead. Forget the gunshot wound. Seeing her dead body was going to haunt them for the rest of their lives.

"Stay down!" Vito screeched at his siblings. Enma held Mami tighter. "Don't move! Just stay down." Vito could hear shouts and grunts from outside the room. Makoto must be engaged with whoever shot up their house. Vito searched Magi for her handgun.

The immediate reassurance he felt when his fingers grasped the gun's grip almost surprised Vito. He was running on autopilot, and it had been years since he last held a gun, but having a gun in his hand saved his life more times than he could count.

Dashing toward Enma and Mami, Vito pulled Enma to his feet. Enma held Mami up to his chest as Vito dragged them out the door. "Close your eyes," Vito said as they passed Magi's body. Mami already had her eyes wound shut. Enma wasn't as lucky.

Out in the hallway, the shouts and grunts were louder, coming from the living room. Vito quietly swore under his breath. He led Enma and Mami into their parents' bedroom. Kicking open the closet and the door to the hidden compartment behind the closet, Vito shoved them inside. Stacks of cash along with other stashed goods Makoto kept in there toppled over as Vito searched for anything useful. Vito had finally picked the lock to the secret room a few weeks ago, though since Makoto kept changing the lock and the combination codes, Vito hadn't had the chance to snoop through his cache of goodies.

Vito found another piece and a weird, shiny glove-gauntlet thing. The latter was probable some sort of flame weapon. Vito tossed both objects at Enma. As Enma juggled catching the weapons and supporting Mami, Vito said, "Stay here. Remember what our parents taught us. Only open the door if they knock once and only once. Keep Mami save."

Enma sputtered something incomprehensible. Before he could even try to stop Vito, Vito shut the door. Gun poised for firing and with his finger ready to squeeze the trigger, Vito ran for the living room.

The sight that was presented before Vito made his heart skip a beat.

Furniture was tossed, walls were cracked, the floor was uneven, and a half-dead Makoto Kozato sat against an overturned couch with a black-suited Iemitsu Sawada standing over him.

There was no time to think things through. Iemitsu had a gun. He aimed for Makoto's head. So, Vito reacted and emptied his clip into Iemitsu's torso.

Vito was still pulling the trigger and moving his arms as if hit by ricochet long after his gun rang empty. Iemitsu acted as if the bullets did him no damage whatsoever. With a smug, shit-eating sneer, Iemitsu turned toward Vito.

For the briefest of moments, Iemitsu let his guard down. He tilted his head, grimaced. His gun hand wavered in the air, as if unsure whether to aim at Vito or not.

Iemitsu's mouth quivered, about to say something. Before he could, his entire body froze completely. A split-second after, a gory, gut-wrenching sound reverberated across the room. Iemitsu legs faltered before he fell forward, his head landing only a foot away from where Vito stood.

A flood of blood poured out of Iemitsu back. That gross thing on the floor behind him had to be his heart. With reddish-brown flames spewing from his forehead and his bare hands, Makoto was heaving deep, sluggish breaths. Must have been some clever use of his Earth Flames' gravity manipulation that had torn out Iemitsu's heart, said a small and distant voice at the back of Vito's head.

Makoto slowly glanced at Vito, and then at something behind Vito. Vito turned and saw Enma, still holding Mami. Enma's arm that was holding up his pistol was shaking uncontrollably. Smoke spewed from the muzzle, and the siblings were crying and crying and fucking crying without abandon.

Vito was crying, too. That wetness trailing down his cheeks wasn't just blood, Vito soon realized.

Makoto pulled his children into a hug, and for the first time since Vito joined the family, Vito didn't resist one bit.

X

Vongola's offshoot CEDEF group got to the Kozato house before the rest of the Simon Guardians did. CEDEF had the place locked down, and Makoto agreed to full cooperation with the Vongola investigation on the incident.

Apparently, Iemitsu Sawada wasn't Iemitsu Sawada. Some Mist Flame user was masquerading as him. He had stirred up some trouble, killed a ton of CEDEF members, and attempted to wipe out the Kozato family in some mad bid to start a war between the Vongola and Simon Families.

The Mist user was dead. Vito can live with that.

Magi Kozato was also dead. Vito can learn to live with that. So could Enma and Mami, but they won't be making peace with this for a long time.

All three kids sat at the doorsteps to the Kozato house. Illusionists and patrolling guardians and CEDEF agents kept the cops and any prying neighbors away while Makoto spoke with the CEDEF heads inside.

Vito had no words of comfort to give. All he could do was hold Enma and Mami close as they resigned themselves to some blissful, much needed sleep.

By the time the full moon was shining high in the sky, Vito felt like falling asleep himself. However, Makoto strolled out of the house and sat beside his kids. One long arm wrapped around them.

"So what's the word?" Vito murmured, accepting the added warmth. "Who was that Mist guy?"

"We're still looking into it," Makoto replied, his voice just as low and depressed as Vito's. "CEDEF and my people will find those responsible and make them pay. You have my word on that."

"Good. Ain't no way else this can end without someone's head on a pike."

"Vongola's help comes at a cost," Makoto continued. He met Vito's dark brown eyes. "They knew you were of Vongola blood the moment they laid eyes on you. You are to be returned to your biological mother in Namimori in the morning."

What? "The fuck you mean I'm being returned to Namimori?" Vito harshly spewed. "After everything that's happened, you expect me to leave?"

"What would you have me do?" Makoto questioned. "Deny the Vongola Family's right to one of its potential heirs?"

"They don't have any right to me," Vito disagreed. "Iemitsu Sawada has no right to me. He's no father. He never raised me. You've only known me for six months, and you've been more of a father than he has."

"Yes. I haven't known you for very long, but I know enough that you have been lying to me all that time."

"I told you that I'm no –"

Makoto waved a hand, the one with his favorite ring on his finger, prompting Vito to shut his mouth. "My children love you," Makoto said gruffly. "My wife loved you as if you were our own, yet you neglected to clearly explain to us your true nature. You are not an Arcobaleno, but your eyes and your manner of speaking give away your true age. Tell me who you are – who you truly are, Tsunayoshi Sawada, or I promise you that you and my children will never meet again."

That wasn't Vito's name. "My name isn't Tsunayoshi," Vito practically growled. "I'm no Sawada. My name is Vittorio Antonio Scaletta. I was a soldier in World War 2. I worked for the Italian mob for most of my life, and by the end of it, all I had to show for it was a bullet to the head. My head. Then I wake up here. Reincarnation, God messing with my mind – fuck if I know why I've got all these memories from another life. Bottom line: with all these memories, I've been nothing but loyal to you and your kids. To my brother and my sister."

Vito couldn't tell what Makoto felt about Vito's explanation. Makoto's face was too flat, too expressionless. "If loyalty means so little to the Simon Family," Vito continued, "then no wonder you've been licking everyone's boots for so long."

Vito direly wanted Makoto to respond to Vito's rant. However, before he could, someone from behind Vito put a hand on Vito's shoulder.

The real Iemitsu Sawada looked at Makoto distrustfully. "Why were you casting an illusion around yourself and my son?" he questioned.

"They have been through too much today," Makoto answered simply. "I only wanted to make sure they had their rest." There was a glint to Makoto's eye when he glanced at Vito. The Simon head must have not wanted to let their conversation be heard by any potential onlookers.

The distrustful glare lasted a little while longer before Iemitsu turned his attention to Vito. "We're going home now, Tsuna."

"Fuck off!" Vito yelled. Iemitsu looked greatly surprised and didn't know how to react. Vito's shout also woke up Enma, who droopily lifted his head.

"Papa?" Enma sleepily asked. "Mami? Vito?"

Iemitsu frowned at Vito. "You mother misses you. You caused a lot of trouble, and you're going to be working for a long time to make up for it. You might as well get a head start, so I'm taking you home, right now." Iemitsu dragged Vito along. Vito's tiny body could hardly do a thing to stop him.

"Vito!" Enma jumped up and tried to follow after his brother. Between his bandaged leg and Makoto holding him back, there wasn't much Enma could really do. "Where is he taking Vito? Why is he taking him away? What is he –"

"When you become the boss," Vito called out to Enma. "Come find me! Prove Mami right, that you'll become the biggest, baddest boss around!"

Iemitsu shoved Vito as gently as he could into a pristine black car. Without much ceremony, they drove away.

"No more adventures for you, Tsuna," Iemitsu said in what felt like a painfully patronizing tone. "I had wanted to take you and your mom on a vacation to Italy, but that won't be happening any time soon. From now on, you'll be staying close to Namimori."

Looking out a window and refusing to meet Iemitsu's gaze, Vito muttered, "Nana couldn't stop me from leaving before. You can't stop me from leaving again, if you're too busy helping out your other family, cleaning up bloody crime scenes, and other crap like that."

A long pause lingered between them. "My work keeps my family – you and your mother – safe," Iemitsu finally said. "I make sure things like what happened to the Kozatos doesn't happen to you."

Vito didn't answer. The rest of the drive was a very silent affair.

The Simon Family was a bust. It was a huge, total, colossal bust, but at least Enma and Mami were still alive. That was the silver lining Vito would cherish till the end of times.

Still, Tsunayoshi Sawada apparently had Vongola blood in him. Somewhere down the line in his budding criminal career, Vito Kozato can probably use that to his advantage.

 


	3. Let the Good Times Roll

During the months following his fourteenth birthday, Vito found himself following a consistent routine during his work week.

He generally woke up an hour or two before the sun rose. While his mind was still half asleep, he let his body follow the daily stretches and exercises to get his limbs limber. By the time Vito took his morning shower, Nana was also awake and had breakfast laid out on the dining table. They traded small talk, Vito complaining about something from school and Nana talking about anything interesting that happened while serving customers down at TakeSushi. Once Vito was done eating, he quickly washed his plates and hoofed it off to Namimori Middle.

The walks to school never took long. If Vito could help it, he was at Namimori at least a half hour before classes started. Getting harassed by any Disciplinary Committee members – namely Hibari – for being tardy or some other flimsy offense always put Vito in a bad mood. On the plus side, meeting up with Kyoko Sasagawa, Hana Kurokawa, and Takeshi Yamamoto at the school gates tended to brighten his mood.

Kyoko was the sister to Ryohei Sasagawa, Vito's top boxer. She was a cute gal that could make Tsunayoshi's blood heat up just at the sight of her. Nana tried to set her and Vito up once, though Vito wasn't in the market for any relationship like that. He couldn't stop his teenage body from getting infatuated with a cute girl his age, but Kyoko worked better as a friend than as some half-assed childhood sweetheart. After that little play date, her bubbly and infectious smile had brought an innocent bright spot to Vito's life that he didn't want to let go.

Hana came as a package deal with Kyoko. Hana was her best friend. She had a hell of a mouth on her, lambasting Hibari for his psychotic carnivorous habits, Kyoko for her cake obsession, Takeshi for his air-headedness, Vito for all kinds of shit, and the list went on. Hana got away with it since most of what she said was usually true. She was essentially a more tolerable version of Adelheid – tolerable in the sense that Hana had no serious stake in the Namimori underground. Instead, her position as the school's best tutor gave Vito easy access to all the slackers and ne'er-do-wells who were ripe for grunt work in Vito's operation.

Befriending Takeshi was entirely incidental on Vito's part. Nana didn't come home at the usual time one day, so Vito went to TakeSushi to see what was keeping her. Looking back on it now, Vito really shouldn't have been surprised when he found her shacking it up with Tsuyoshi Yamamoto. Nana was hiding more than just disappointment in her son behind that fake smile of hers. Regardless, the preteen Takeshi at the time, completely in denial of the noises coming from upstairs, was wishfully trying and failing to cook himself some dinner. With nothing else better to do, Vito decided to help him out and whipped something up for him. Vito and Takeshi have been hanging out ever since.

Vito stuck with his entourage for most of the school day. The teachers and the subjects they taught were understandable enough if boring as hell. If it weren't for his friends and a few other obligations keeping him on school grounds, Vito would be skipping classes completely.

Once the last bell rang, Vito liked to spend time on the rooftop for a few minutes. If he was alone, he'd take a smoke. Maybe take a few sips from his flask if he was really in the mood for a distraction. If he was with friends, they'd chat and have an early supper. If Takeshi finished baseball practice early and didn't have any other pressing matters to take care of, he'd walk with Vito to their next stop: Kawahira's Antique Shop.

It wasn't really an antique shop anymore. Most of the antiques, phony replicas, and cheap heirlooms were sold years ago. Kawahira, the lazy kook, never bothered to change the sign. He sold a bunch of random stuff nowadays, operating more like a pawnshop than an antique store.

How Kawahira ran his shop was really up to him, so long as he paid his taxes and laundered the money Vito gave him. Kawahira did his job, and Vito happily strolled into the backrooms to conduct the real business.

If Takeshi tagged along, he usually went straight for the makeshift locker room to change out of his school clothes. Vito enjoyed pouring himself a cup of coffee before getting into one of his suit-and-tie getups, color-coded for each day of the week just to break up some of the monotony. Once Vito and Takeshi were presentable, they headed out to the main storage room that served as the boxing ring.

Vito had met Ryohei Sasagawa not long after leaving the Kozato household. Older kids had been picking on Ryohei, and he was fighting back almost like an uncaged, rabid dog. He wasn't as bad as Hibari, but from some of the things that Kyoko had said about her brother and from Vito's own observations, Vito could tell that Ryohei had an addiction for fighting. Entering the boxing club and earning Ryohei's respect took longer than Vito would've liked, but it did secure Vito some healthy and willing assets to run his betting operation around.

The older Ryohei got, the older the punks he got into street fights with. Vito, eventually, worked out a deal with the punks, the boxing club, the NDC, and Kawahira. The end result: folks from all around town come to watch and bet on the fights that Vito graciously hosted. In between fights, there was a lounge in another room; neutral ground for anyone of an unscrupulous nature to: talk shop, make deals, or enjoy a good drink.

Kawahira's friend Wonomichi tended the bar and helped with the accounting. If Ryohei wasn't prepping himself for a match or already in the ring, he helped work security with Takeshi and the other guards. Teenagers they may be, but they didn't need to make their bones for people to know they could handle themselves in a fight. While sitting in one of his comfy antique chairs in his office, by the boxing ring, or in the lounge, Vito made sure everyone did their jobs and got their cut of the profits.

After the boxing matches were done and everybody's money was squared away, Vito helped close up shop and left. If Vito didn't have a meeting scheduled with Tetsuya Kusakabe or Hibari, Vito beelined it straight for home. Since Nana typically worked the late shift, Vito was free to spruce up a personalized Italian dinner, catch up on homework, and review his business notes in solitary peace before going to bed.

Six or seven hours of sleep later, Vito started the whole process all over again.

X

About six months after his fourteenth birthday, Vito found himself going a little off-script.

The cold sweat Vito woke up in definitely didn't do him any favors. Vito didn't really have nightmares anymore, or even sudden flashbacks to his old Scaletta life. If he did, they came irregularly and rarely. Like last night, when Vito was reliving some of the time he spent in Hartmann Penitentiary. Rival gang members wanted to kick his ass, fruitcakes wanted to drill his ass, and the COs wanted to smack everybody's asses around six ways to Sunday. If Leo Galante hadn't taken a shining to Vito's fighting ability, Vito certainly wouldn't have lasted as long as he did.

Life in the joint was hardly a life worth living, but Leo's fight circuits, his careful consideration for his fighters, and his knack for engendering trust were what helped Vito get up in the mornings and drudge through the rest of his sentence with some degree of dignity.

Forcing himself out of bed, Vito stumbled into the bathroom. He splashed water onto his face and rinsed his mouth. After patting himself with some deodorant, Vito changed into his favorite brown leather bomber jacket. Hibari was going to be pissed if he caught Vito without his school uniform, but Vito wasn't in the mood to care.

"Tsuna!" Nana greeted Vito as he came down the staircase. "You're up late. Did you take your shower yet? I –"

Vito ignored Nana completely as he swiped a loaf of bread, grabbed his book bag, and marched out the front door. He munched on the bread quickly, not really tasting it as he hurried off to Namimori Middle.

The usual gang hailed Vito as he got to the campus, but he didn't answer their questions on why he was late. They thankfully left him alone, too, when Vito let his head drop onto the top of his desk and slept through their classes. Normally, Vito would be at least faking interest in whatever the teachers were talking about. Today didn't feel much like a normal day for Vito.

At some point, someone kicked the leg of Vito's chair, startling him awake out of his dreamless nap. Instinctively, Vito seized his offender's arm and glared at whoever it was. He was rewarded by the sight of Hana's disapproving frown.

"Something I can help you with?" Vito asked sharply.

"You and Takeshi should be thankful Nezu's out sick," Hana said, "else he'd have your hides for sleeping through today's science test."

From the desk beside Vito, Takeshi let off a laugh. "Guess we lucked out today," he said drowsily, probably having woken up from his own nap. "Huh, Tsuna?"

The rest of the class was talking among themselves. It must be their break period. Leaning back against his seat, Vito took a deep breath and folded his arms behind his head. "I'll make up the test later," he mumbled quietly.

"I doubt Nezu will give either of you a chance for a makeup," Hana told the boys. She continued to lecture in that holier-than-thou tone that Vito has since learned to blot out. Vito looked around the classroom again. He didn't see Kyoko. She might be hanging out with Mochida, the guy in charge of the school's kendo club. Mochida had the hots for Kyoko, but Vito wasn't sure if Kyoko felt the same way.

Vito was brought out of his meandering thoughts when Hana let two giant textbooks fall to his desk. The noise startled him, but he kept up his indifferent countenance and didn't give away his surprise.

Hana kept moving her mouth and continued to say things, but Vito couldn't hear one bit of it. He watched her for a while before reaching for his wallet. Vito pulled out a handful of cash.

"Let's play the boyfriend/girlfriend angle today," Vito said, offering the money to Hana, who looked absolutely unamused.

"We talked about this," Hana said flatly. "I'm not some floozy you can bribe into being your hanger-on all the time."

"Past experience tells me otherwise." Vito folded the paper bills between his fingers. "Besides, it's just for until school ends. You need the money, don't you?" Hana's parents were bums. Vito's tried to offer her some no-strings attached charity before as a personal favor, but she typically preferred earning her keep through some form of hard work.

Takeshi chuckled. "Really that desperate for a girlfriend, Tsuna?" he joked goodheartedly. Vito ignored him and put all of his attention on Hana. He knew her well enough to know that if he was the first to break off their stare-down, then he'd be on the losing side.

Fortunately, Hana finally rolled her eyes and snatched the cash off Vito's hands. She patted down her skirt and carefully sat herself on Vito's lap. Vito wrapped one arm around Hana's back as he also popped a lollipop into his mouth. Hana hated the smell of smoke, so this was the next best thing.

Vito couldn't exactly go to the local cathouses or invite any lovely ladies of the night to the Sawada house, and Kawahira's shop was off-limits for that kind of business. Vito decided to wait till he was eighteen before considering doing anything of that nature. Maybe when he's sixteen he'll try seriously courting a dame his age. It was the same age he was when he first did it with Lisa, a good friend of his from Empire Bay's Little Italy.

Until Vito was old enough, just having a cute girl wrap herself around him did enough to quell some of his old wants and needs. Kyoko was a no-go since she was Ryohei's sister, but if Hana was willing, Vito wasn't complaining.

"Open the textbook," Hana commanded sternly, shuffling slightly. "You too, Takeshi. It won't do anyone any good if you two monkeys become even bigger delinquents than you already are."

Vito shrugged uncaringly and did as he was told, also pulling out his notebook. Takeshi laughed again before blinking quickly and giving Vito a sideways glance. "Oh, by the way, Tsuna, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

Closing his eyes, Vito sighed and asked, "You asking Tsuna a favor, or are you asking Vito?"

Rubbing the back of his head, Takeshi laughed one more freakin' time. "I guess I'm asking Vito. So –"

"Then shut the fuck up and ask Vito for a favor later."

Hana scowled at Vito, though she refrained from remarking on Vito's outburst. Takeshi was nonplussed, still smiling and only nodding in understanding.

Tsuna Sawada was the lazy, no-good schoolboy that hardly had any favors to hand out. Vito was far from that, and he couldn't wait to step into his good shoes once school ended.

X

Vito wore one of his tailored suits today. Black coat and slacks, grey vest, red tie, and a black fedora with its rim bent slightly over his face. He sat at his personal booth in one corner of the lounge. The lights were just bright enough for people to go about their business and just dim enough to keep up an atmosphere of exoticism and mystique. Wannabe gangsters in cheap suits and teenage hoodlums still in their school getups drank their drinks and had their conversations with an arrogant laugh here, a subtle threat there, and the occasional plastered or rage-fueled drunkard getting kicked out by one of Vito's vetted and trusted associates interspliced somewhere in between.

The musician Vito managed to get on his payroll playing a rendition of Billie Holiday's "The Very Thought of You" on one of Kawahira's antique pianos set the mood perfectly. Vito felt like he was back in the Maltese Falcon or the Mona Lisa. Much as Falcone and Vinci were scumbags who nearly killed Vito and Joe, they had owned some pretty swell bars that Vito couldn't help but try to emulate. God, did Vito fucking miss Joe.

Blowing a puff of smoke into the air, Vito lifted his head to see someone approaching his booth. It was Takeshi, wearing his own navy blue suit and another goddamn smile. "Hey, Tsu–" At Vito's glare, Takeshi quickly shut his mouth before speaking again. "Vito," Takeshi amended. "Slow night, huh?"

"Yeah," Vito agreed, relaxing. "Was looking forward to the fights tonight to make a pretty dull day more interesting. Damn shame we had to cancel them."

"Where is Sasagawa anyway?" Takeshi took a casual gander around the lounge.

"Ryohei broke something. Again." Thank God the clinic on the north side of town graciously accepted the protection Vito's gang provided it. Ryohei's medical bills would have had otherwise bled them dry of cash a dozen times over. "Most of the fights are cancelled until he gets better. Hibari's also kicked it up a notch, so most folks are trying to lay low till he gets over his latest biting boner."

Takeshi nodded. He glanced at the seat across from Vito. At Vito's beckoning, Takeshi slid onto it and made himself comfortable. "So, if things are quieter than usual, do you think you can spare some time and lend me a hand with something?"

"All you gotta do is ask," Vito said congenially, feeling back in his element with the comfortable clothes and in the nostalgic ambience.

"Well, you know how Nezu doesn't like either of us much," Takeshi began. "I guess he dislikes me a little more than you since you do a little more studying than I do. Anyway, Nezu's been threatening to get me booted off the baseball team if my grades don't get any better."

Vito suppressed a snort. "Is the tutoring not going too well?"

"Hana's good and all, but yeah, not really," Takeshi admitted with a shameless chuckle. "The test we had today didn't help much. That's why I'm asking you if you can convince Nezu to change his mind and let me stay on the team even if I keep failing quizzes."

The obvious and less arduous solution for Takeshi would be to cut down on the baseball practice and double down on the studying. Baseball prodigy that he was didn't need the extra hours swinging bats and chucking balls, and he really could get better grades if he only applied himself. Vito was about to tell Takeshi just as much.

Then Vito remembered that they weren't average civilian schoolchildren. Vito especially wasn't. So, Vito said, "I never liked Nezu either. Give me some time. I'll figure something out."

Takeshi's smile widened a bit. "Thanks, Vito! I really appreciate it." At Vito's handwave, Takeshi took his leave.

Vito sat by his lonesome, exhaling smoking and staring absently at his indistinct reflection off his booth table, when he spotted another figure walking up to him in the corner of his eye.

Ichiro, the eldest of the local Three Crime Brothers gang, wore a casual grey suit and a green tie. His glasses used to make Vito think he worked as the brothers' accountant, but in actuality, Ichiro was the head of their thieving ring, a decent improvisational actor, and one of Vito's top capos. As pissed Ichiro's brothers were about having to give a teenager a significant cut of their profits, Ichiro understood the score perfectly and kept his siblings in line.

"Vito," Ichiro greeted reverently with a bow. "May I have a moment of your time?"

The polite routine was likely an act, a means to brown nose and get into Vito's good graces. Not in the mood for that kind of dance around, Vito cut to the chase and said, "Saburo and Jiro are in the can again."

The glint of Ichiro's glasses hid his resentment from being seen through so quickly. "Yes. I realize that all debts are currently balanced between us, but my brothers –"

"I'll talk with my contacts in the police," Vito reassured Ichiro. "Payoffs, missing evidence – the whole nine yards."

Ichiro stood straight and had an expression of relief on his face. "What will be the cost for this service?"

There weren't any heist jobs Vito's gang were currently mulling over that Vito could think of off, so Vito said, "Consider it a personal favor. If things work like clockwork, your brothers will be out by the end of the week."

With another bow, Ichiro said his thanks and went on his way.

Before long, another business acquaintance joined Vito at his booth. Vito gave a respectful nod. "Kusakabe," Vito acknowledged.

"Vito," Tetsuya Kusakabe returned. Vito pressed his cigarette into an ashtray, and Kusakabe removed the blade of grass he often chewed out of his mouth. "You're lucky Hibari was on one his extended patrols. You weren't at the usual spot today."

Oh, boy did Vito want to tell Kusakabe to fuck off and to tell him to tell Hibari to fuck off, too. Vito respected Kusakabe, but him bringing up Hibari only fouled Vito's mood. "My boys told me about Hibari's extended 'hunting' trip," Vito said instead. "Didn't see any reason to stick around after school if he wasn't gonna be there."

Keeping the peace between Vito's gang and the Namimori Disciplinary Committee took a lot more time and effort than Vito cared to reminiscence about. Marking territory and time stamps for when who gets to patrol which turf was simple enough, but getting Kyoya Hibari to play ball was a fucking miracle. Vito was a bloody and bruised mess by the time he finally beat the psychopath in a one-on-one fight – Vito's fists against his tonfas – and even then, Hibari managed to force himself out of unconsciousness after getting knocked out and was trying to tear off Vito's head for days afterward.

Four times a week, Vito and Hibari meet up and brawl. No words are exchanged. They just fight and fight and Vito just hopes he won't have to spend the night at the clinic. The fights are usually held at Namimori Middle in between classes or before Vito heads back to his house after leaving Kawahira's place. If Vito was given the opportunity to avoid any and all interaction with the bloodthirsty freak, without risking Vito's business endeavors, then Vito was gonna fucking take it.

"You could have met with me," Kusakabe said plainly. "For one, we could have made arrangements for when to schedule the next fight. For another, you could have paid your upkeep at the school personally instead of sending one of your couriers. The person you sent was supposed to be in detention. Instead, after he delivered this week's offering, a patrol found him 'crowding' and selling drugs on school grounds."

Vito swore under his breath. "Fucking idiot. Sorry. I'll take care of him."

"The Disciplinary Committee has already dealt with him," Kusakabe said. He revealed a plastic shopping bag and slide it across the table to Vito. "You can keep his product, but monetary recompense from your end will also be necessary." The number that Kusakabe rattled off made Vito wince. The courier was certainly not worth that amount, but Vito took solace in that the loose end wouldn't fester and grow into a bigger problem for Vito down the line anymore.

Vito snapped his fingers at one of his suit-wearing grunts. The kid took the bag of drugs and, at Vito's nod and subtle hand motion, hurried off to store it with the rest of the cache. Reaching into his coat, Vito pulled out wads of cash that barely fit in both of his hands. He counted up the money, deliberately stacked and folded the bills over each other, and gave Kusakabe the dough.

"We do good business together," were Kusakabe's parting words as he stood up and began to make his exit. "Of all the two-bit delinquents in Namimori, you are the only one Hibari bothers to portray a modicum of respect towards. You are free to vet and judge your subordinates as you please, but Hibari views them as extensions of yourself. Please try not to do anything that would upset the delicate peace we have both worked so hard to maintain."

If Kusakabe hadn't played the angel on Hibari's shoulder, the turf war between Vito's gang and the NDC would have definitely ended with either Vito or Hibari sleeping with the fishes. "I won't," Vito reassured.

As Kusakabe left the lounge, another prospective business partner approached Vito. Vito lit a new cigarette and welcomed the new arrivals, and the others that came after him.

Eventually, Vito and Kawahira closed up shop. As Kawahira ate his bowl of noodles, Vito waved goodbye and sauntered off home.

X

The baby-faced freak with the giant goggles and a height that barely came to below Vito's kneecaps was waiting by the Sawada house's front doorsteps when Vito got home. The setting sun reflected light off the infant's goggles, the glare blinding Vito – now back in his favorite jacket after changing out of his suit – for a split second before his eyes adjusted.

"You're home late," Lal Mirch reprimanded lightly as she pulled her cloak tighter around herself. The breeze was colder tonight than usual.

After Iemitsu had dropped Vito back in Namimori, he had his CEDEF lackeys constantly on the prowl around the Sawada house. It was typically one of his boys or girls in an expensive suit that stayed for a month or two before getting replaced by another fake-smile-wearing schmuck. They regularly rotated shifts on keeping an eye on Vito. While Nana got along fine with her husband's coworkers, Vito gave the cold shoulder strictly on principle. After all, they're the reason Vito was never able to permanently take off from home again.

"What are you? My mother?" Vito asked Lal with some snark. Rather than march past Lal, Vito stood before her. If it was any other CEDEF agent, Vito would have shouldered past him or her without a second thought. With Lal, though, it didn't matter that she was goddam baby. Lal didn't care either way about Vito's impudent comments and foul language, but if Vito acted aggressively physically even a little, then Vito could expect a painful retribution that he'd be feeling in the morning.

"Your mother is inside," Lal said curtly, "making dinner."

"Not a busy day at TakeSushi?"

"Yes. At least one of us was lucky enough to get off work early." Lal narrowed her eyes. "I'll give you some credit. Your latest scheme had me running around all day trying to find your dead drop."

Fuck. The fact that she's talking about it meant that Vito's plan didn't pan out. "How'd you figure it out?" he asked.

"Persistence, really." Lal reached into her cloak and pulled out a dog collar and a crumpled-up piece of paper. "Your neighbors were moving out today. I thought you'd try to plant a letter and money somewhere in their luggage. I didn't expect to find those items embedded inside their chihuahua's collar."

Preventing Vito from making any possible inquiries on the Kozatos through his newly established criminal connections was also a point against Iemitsu's chumps in Vito's book.

Vito shrugged nonchalantly. "I had to get creative eventually."

"You do realize that even if by some impossible miracle you bypass our surveillance and security and get a message out of Namimori, the Simon Family will never be allowed to find you."

What a loyal little solider Lal was to Iemitsu Sawada. "Is there anything else you wanna talk about," Vito asked disdainfully, "or can I head inside and eat my dinner?"

Lal gave Vito one more pointed glare before walking past him. "Spend some time with your mother tonight," she called from over her shoulder. "Stay home. Relax. Rest. Life won't run as smoothly as you think it's going for you come tomorrow morning."

Iemitsu must be coming home for another impromptu vacation, Vito deduced. "Good to know," Vito sarcastically called back to Lal before strolling through his front door.

The smell of zuppa di pollo permeated the air as Vito entered the dining room. Nana was pouring the soup from a pot into two bowls with a ladle when she spotted Vito. With a smile, she announced, "I made your favorite, Tsuna!"

Vito failed to suppress his small grin. The familiar and nostalgic aroma was too good to ignore. "Thank you, mama," Vito politely said as he dropped his book bag to the floor, sat down, and dug into his food. Nana began to eat her own bowl soon after.

They ate in relative silence until Nana broached a topic that they never really found time to discuss. "Lal told me that you've haven't been doing too well in school lately," she eventually said in a gentle voice.

Vito didn't respond at first, content with eating his food. He only stopped when Nana placed her hand over his wrist. At her slight tug, he reluctantly raised his head and met her eyes.

"I know you like working at Kawahira's shop," Nana said tenderly, "but that shouldn't interfere with your school work."

"Why should my school work matter?" Vito countered while making sure to keep his voice level. "Only reason I go to Namimori Middle is 'cause you and Kyoya Hibari make me. My business at Kawahira's brings more than enough bucks to pay the bills as it is."

"But that business is dangerous," Nana said, sounding both wary and understanding at the same time. "Your father does more than enough work to keep us warm, fed, and with a roof over our heads. I'm not saying you need to go to a good college and become a world-renowned doctor or anything like that, but I do think you should be able to earn a good living without having to do such underhanded things like stealing and bullying."

Vito felt his hands uncomfortably clench into fists. "So I can't run my own gang, but my father who's never home is free to do whatever he wants? Is that it?"

"I only want you to live a good, safe life, Tsunayoshi," Nana insisted. "We life as well as we do because your father and I have had to make many sacrifices to earn our luxuries. This other life that you think you want to live – it's dangerous. You don't have to give up as much we did. If you had a choice –"

Vito made his choice lifetimes ago. "I know as much as the next mafioso how dangerous 'the life' is," Vito sneered hotly. "Seven years ago, to the day, I watched the woman I called 'Mama' get gunned down right in front of me."

Nana's considerate expression faltered and became more apprehensive. It was a low blow on Vito's part, especially since he was partially lying as he never actually called Magi Kozato "Mama," but Vito's doubled down now and wouldn't back out.

"I loved her," Vito went on, "and I miss her. I miss my brother and sister, too, but losing them doesn't mean my life's gonna be any safer. There's gonna be danger in any life, in any job I can end up slaving away in. Mob work's more dangerous, but I'm guaranteed to win big in that life more than anywhere else. The working man's a sucker, so if I'm gonna work, it might as well be something worth suffering through."

With a stomp in his step, Vito wrangled out of Nana's loose grip and headed for his room. He slammed the door shut and fell face first onto his bed.

He wasn't ever gonna tell no one about this, but that night, Vito cried himself to sleep.

X

When Vito woke up even later than his usual time the next morning and brewed himself a cup of coffee with plans to skip school, he didn't expect to find a toddler in an admittedly cute baby suit with thin, curly sideburns on the sides of the kid's face standing on the edge of the kitchen countertop.

"Ciaossu," the baby said.

Vito offered him a cup. "Coffee?"

The baby took the drink with his stubby little hand. "Thank you." Vito poured himself another cup. He leaned against the counter across from the baby. As the two of them lifted their respective mugs into the air in a mutual toast, they drank their share.

Taking in a breath after swallowing a mouthful of coffee, Vito eyed the baby. "I was expecting Iemitsu to show up," Vito said. "He send you instead?"

"Iemitsu's boss sent me. I'm Reborn, your new home tutor."

Vito chuckled. "Are you supposed to be Lal's replacement?" Whenever it was Lal's turn to babysit the Sawada house, she regularly sat Vito down for tutoring lessons. Vito wouldn't have called himself cooperative during those lessons.

"CEDEF agents will no longer be charged with guardianship over you," Reborn said. "I am here to train you to become a mafia boss."

The fuck? If Vito had been in the middle of taking another swig, he would have instinctively spat it out. "Excuse me?"

Reborn spun a tale about an aging Vongola Nono, three dead heirs, and Tsunayoshi's great-great-great grandfather moving from Italy to Japan.

And as Reborn told his story, Vito felt his blood pressure rise as pure rage filled every corner of his body.

"I call bullshit," Vito said once Reborn said his piece. "My parents keep telling me to walk away from a life of crime, and now you're telling me that they want me to run their entire operation?"

"It was an executive decision made by Vongola Nono," Reborn corrected. "Your father was initially opposed to bring you into the fold, but Nono convinced him otherwise. I don't know the reasons why, but your mother was only informed of your Decimo status this morning. Since Iemitsu is busy with CEDEF matters, Nono had a plane arranged to bring her to Italy so that they can formally discuss your new circumstances."

"And why was I – the prospective heir to the throne, so to speak – not sent to Italy?"

Reborn shrugged his small shoulders. "Your mother will return within the week, but as far as you are concerned, I will be training you to become an astounding mafia boss." Reborn whipped out a folder and flipped through the papers inside. "I've read Lal's reports on your independent ventures here in Namimori. I'll commend you for overseeing a fairly stable setup with very loyal followers, but there is still overwhelming room for improvement."

Vito finished his coffee and plopped the mug into the sink. Still in his worn clothes from the day before, Vito snatched up his book bag before heading out. Reborn hopped and rode atop Vito's shoulder in the same way Lal sometimes did.

"It is a sloppy and poorly negotiated non-aggression pact that you maintain with the NDC," Reborn was saying. "Your fights with Kyoya Hibari are unsustainable affairs. An assassin or a rival gangster can easily take advantage of your weakened states and capture or kill you."

"Tetsuya Kusakabe and Takeshi Yamamoto have our backs after Hibari and I sort things," Vito said offhandedly. Reborn didn't acknowledge Vito's response.

"Also, despite what you may think, your gang is ultimately subservient to the Namimori Disciplinary Committee. Their soldiers and associates, and their influence with the Namimori Middle School staff and the local law enforcement, significantly outnumber your own resources. A war between your two organizations would be a costly one. In the end, as you are now, the NDC would be victorious."

"You think I don't know that?" Vito barked smartly. "I'm working on it. Hibari's a wild animal, and Kusakabe's too smart to pull the wool over so easily. Taking down the NDC ain't gonna happen overnight."

"That ambition is good," Reborn said as he put away the papers. "The Vongola has no need for a boss content with remaining underneath the authority of a rival faction. The Vongola Family must always be the most powerful and influential family of them all. However, you will have to rightfully earn that power and prestige. As your home tutor, I will make sure you become a worthy boss."

Vito snorted. "Like I need a fucking baby to tell me how to be a boss."

The dropkick to the back of Vito's head that sent him landing face-first to the ground made Vito think otherwise. Even Lal's punishments weren't this abrupt or harsh.

"Was that really necessary?" Vito spat. Reborn was strolling along the top of a low-hanging wall besides Vito now.

"Don't act so smart toward me," Reborn said, as if that was a simple, common fact of life everyone knew about. "Learn how to show respect for your home tutor, No-Good Tsuna."

As Vito nursed his newly bruised cranium, he glared at Reborn. No-Good Tsuna was a nickname that Vito had wiped off the plate years ago. Whoever the fuck Reborn was, ain't no one had the right to call him No-Good right in front of his fucking face.

From the babyish body and the pacifier hanging around his neck, Reborn was an Arcobaleno. A real one, too, and not the poor man's version like Lal aparently was. If Vito was going to make any traction in this "Vongola Decimo" business with Reborn at the whip, he was going to need to watch his step around him.

"Fuck you," Vito insulted, just to get the point across that he wasn't going to take any of Reborn's critiques and abuse lying down and without a fight. Even if Reborn manhandled Vito again and tossed him across a good twenty feet with one good smack, which he did, Vito considered delivering the point worth the effort.

By the time Vito got his faculties straightened out and was able to stand, Reborn was casually strolling past him toward the direction of Namimori Middle. "At this rate, you'll be late to school again, No-Good Tsuna," Reborn said. "A good mafia boss shouldn't be so callous with his education, and as your home tutor, poor grades are unacceptable."

"Whatever you say," Vito muttered as he dragged himself after the baby. "I'll be the best damn mafia boss anyone's ever seen."

"Your confidence is cute," Reborn commented, "but useless without the merit and experience to back it up."

Tsuna Sawada didn't have much experience, but Vito has had more than plenty. "Give it time," Vito promised Reborn. "I think you're gonna be surprised at what I'm made of."

"We'll see."

 


	4. Our Loyalty to the Family...

Where the fuck were Vito's pants?

No, seriously. One minute, Vito was walking to school with Reborn by his side when he caught Kensuke Mochida cornering what looked like an uncomfortable Kyoko under the shadow of a tree. Vito was contemplating how to approach the situation when Reborn put a pistol to Vito's face and fired. The next thing Vito knows, he had Mochida pinned to the ground, the kendo captain's face horribly black and blue, and Vito was wearing nothing except for his boxer shorts.

Vito looked up. He and Mochida were in the middle of the front yard of the school. A crowd of students surrounded them. They looked on in shock and awe, whispering to themselves. Vito spotted Takeshi and Hana hovering beside Kyoko. Kyoko was covering her mouth in what was probably pure astonishment.

"Um sah-wee," Mochida moaned through a dislocated jaw as he helplessly clutched Vito's forearm. "Um sah-wee. Uh didn't nuh shay add tuh give puh-mission tuh talk tuh her. Uh on-eh wanted tuh talk with her. Thazz all. Thazz all..."

This had to be the weirdest fucking dream Vito's ever dreamt in his life.

But then Vito saw Reborn observing from his perch atop a distant light pole. With an Arcobaleno and more of this world's mafia bullshit at play, this probably wasn't a dream.

Well, Vito can at least try to salvage this mess.

Pulling at Mochida's shirt, Vito leaned to his ear and whispered, "Any and all transgressions between us are forgiven." Vito patted Mochida's cheek only somewhat mockingly. "I pay you, make sure you get a nice long vacation while you recover from this little episode, and you become one of my guys. You work for me, now."

Mochida nodded hurriedly. "Uh-kay. Uh-kay. Uh'll do whuh-ev-uh yuh ask."

"I wasn't asking," Vito said as he forcibly pulled Mochida to his feet. Mochida wobbled as Vito supported him and dragged him to the nurse's office.

Once Vito had Mochida squared away on a bed cot (without his shoes, pants, or shirt - so that Vito could wear them and not get heckled by anyone for public nudity), Vito exited the infirmary and ran into Reborn.

"What the fuck was that?" Vito snapped. "What the hell did you shoot me with?"

Reborn had a despicably cute and innocent smile on his face. He held up an oddly colored bullet. "This bullet is the Dying Will Bullet. A person that is shot with this bullet will resurrect and enter Dying Will Mode. Your Dying Will is based on whatever you were regretting at the moment of death, wherein you will then do everything in your power to complete your dying wish."

What a fucking weird-ass power-up. "So why did you shoot me with that bullet?" Vito asked. "It sounds like a last-resort kind of thing to use."

"The Dying Will Bullet is actually fairly common in the Vongola Family," Reborn said. "Since it lets you unconsciously and instinctively make active use of your innate Dying Will Flames, the bullet is ideal for conditioning your body for conscious and controlled manipulation of your Flames as your training progresses."

Flames. Right. Vito had forgotten about the non-burning fire the mafia world seems to run around. "And you couldn't tell me this before you popped a round right in my fucking face in the middle of broad fucking daylight?"

Reborn aimed his handgun for Vito's temple again. "I can always shoot you with an actual bullet, if that makes you happy."

Vito felt his temper quickly waver off. Reborn was holding an actual gun and not the green shapeshifting lizard one. The chameleon gun just looked silly to Vito, but real guns always warranted careful attention toward. "What exactly did I do after you shot me the first time?"

Thankfully, Reborn, still smiling a smile that could give Takeshi a run for his money, holstered his weapon. "When I shot you, you resolutely declared that you would 'make Mochida learn to respect Kyoko with your Dying Will,'" Reborn recited. "You beat Mochida a dozen times over until he vowed to show respect to the girl, at which point your Dying Will Mode deactivated."

God, Vito was going to have to talk with Kyoko one-on-one later. She wasn't very comfortable at being a direct witness to the unlawful things he and the rest of their friends regularly participated in, so seeing Vito turn Mochida into mincemeat must be really eating at her.

"It's good that you hold those within your junior crime family and their loved ones in high regard," Reborn complimented. "Your bloodlust leaves something to be desired for, however."

"You said I was fulfilling my dying wish," Vito pointed out as he crossed his arms. "Are you surprised I didn't pull my punches with whatever that wish was?"

"No," Reborn answered. "All of your actions so far have fit with the profile Lal compiled on you. I'm only surprised that your recklessness, even for one as young as yourself, hasn't led you to personally kill someone by now."

A good portion of Vito's guys – the older ones, of course, typically eighteen and up – have already killed at least one person in cold blood. Once Vito's people who were still schoolkids graduated from high school, a promotion to better pay and more trust was gonna cost them a kill. Vito has ordered plenty of hits on plenty of guys, but all the while, Vito hadn't had the pleasure of whacking someone himself in this lifetime quite yet.

At the sound of footsteps behind Vito, he turned and straightened his back at who he saw. "Kyoko," Vito welcomed with a nod. "Are you okay?"

The girl had a scrutinizing gaze that was scanning Vito's form from head to toe. "I should be the one asking you that, Tsuna. Are you wearing Mochida clothes?"

"I've been having a weird morning," Vito replied as his excuse. He motioned to his new home tutor. "This is Reborn. He's a friend of Lal's, and he's staying at my house for a while. We've been going through a, uh... transitional phase. Been a really stressful time since my dad took my mom on a last-minute trip to Italy." Coming up with half-truthful baloney for the civilian side of Vito's gang had gotten easier and easier over the years. Kyoko wasn't dumb, but she was smart enough to know not to look too deeply at what Vito, Takeshi, and Ryohei did off-campus and after school.

When Kyoko spotted Reborn, she kneeled down and smiled at the baby. "How cute," Kyoko commented cheerily. "That's a nice suit you're wearing."

"Thank you," Reborn said. "Highly respected mafia members such as myself, the World's Greatest Hitman, only accept the best quality suits available on the market."

Though Kyoko's smile persisted, it lost some of its permanence at Reborn's words. Regardless, she nodded her head playfully at him. "You sure do look the part. So, you're a friend of Lal's? Are you Tsuna's new tutor? He really needs all the help he can get."

"I am," Reborn confirmed. "I'm training No-Good Tsuna to become a marvelous mafia boss."

Vito cut in before Reborn could spout anything more about organized crime. "Mochida should also be fine," Vito said. "It'll take a while for him to recover, but he'll live. Now, I didn't mean to react like that out there. Was Mochida really trying to make a move on you, or was it something else, or..."

In another life, Francesca Scaletta, Vito Scaletta's only sister, was married to a scumbag named Eric Reily. Frankie liked Eric, and Eric made sure to pay their bills, so even if Eric didn't bother to ask Vito's permission for Frankie's hand in marriage (since Vito was in jail and all at the time), Vito gave Frankie her space. Then a couple of years later, Frankie comes to Vito's doorstep with admissions that Eric was cheating on her and hitting her. Vito promptly beat Eric half to death, but when Vito promised to kill Eric if he ever touched Frankie like that again, Frankie told Vito to stay out of their lives. "I don't know you anymore," were some of the last words he ever heard from her.

In this life, Vito was more careful in how he treated civilian members of the family. Vito liked Kyoko. The last thing he wanted was for her to tell Vito and Ryohei that she doesn't know them anymore either.

"I think Mochida was trying to be flirty and didn't realize he came off more as creepy," Kyoko said, "but I don't think he was going to do anything that would warrant you beating him up so badly."

"Like I said," Vito began in conciliatory tone, "it's been a stressful time."

"But even if he was going to try something," Kyoko continued, "you didn't have to automatically jump in like that unless I started struggling or screaming or something like that." Faster than Vito could blink, Kyoko whipped out a switchblade in her hand. It was the same one Vito had given her with that cake café coupon for her birthday a few months back. "You taught me how to use this for a reason, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," Vito conceded as he scratched the back of his head. "I just... worry, is all. Y'know?"

"I appreciate it," Kyoko said in an honest tone. "That you care, I mean, but it won't do you any good getting into unnecessary fist fights like that." Kyoko blushed and looked to the side. "That's not even mentioning the fact that you did it in your underwear. That was really, really weird, Tsuna."

Vito had to admit that Kyoko did look cute when she looked embarrassed like that. "Let me make it up to you. I know some straight shooters who you might like. They're a hell of a lot better than Mochida, let me tell you."

Kyoko waved her hands in a placating gesture. "That's fine. I don't need you playing matchmaker for me. Actually, if you aren't too busy after school, Hana and I have been wanting to try out that gumbo you've been bragging about."

Vito's second-in-command in New Bordeaux, Alma, always hated Vito's gumbo. Lincoln Clay didn't like it much either. "You're gonna love it," Vito said with a forced wide smile. He'll have to skip heading to Kawahira's today, but it was an acceptable sacrifice. "I promise."

"I'm looking forward to it," Kyoko said as she tugged at Vito's sleeve and lightly dragged him with her down the hallway. "We should get to class, or Hana will have our heads."

Vito was more worried about Hibari tearing off their heads, but he let Kyoko guide them to their class without any resistance.

Reborn was smirking as Vito and Kyoko left. If Reborn was planning any bullshit schemes with Kyoko, then he's got another thing coming.

X

Smokin' Bomb Hayato was definitely a freak. No question about that.

"Tenth!" Gokudera exclaimed as he accompanied Vito on his walk to Kawahira's. "I understand that we are making our way toward your primary place of business. With your blessing, I can run on ahead and secure the perimeter. Or, I can also –"

Vito held up a hand. Gokudera shut his mouth immediately and didn't say a word for the rest of their trip.

Once they were at Kawahira's, Gokudera silently and dutifully followed Vito into the lounge. The business was closed for today, so the lounge was empty save for a few of Vito's guys doing janitorial stuff and keeping a close eye on the place. Vito led Gokudera to the usual booth where Vito did his deals and had his meetings. While Vito assumed a relaxed posture, Gokudera sat with more poise and reverence, dutifully waiting for orders.

When Vito began to light a cigarette, Gokudera was quick to offer his own. "Please, tenth! You no longer have to bother yourself with such mundane motions! As your right-hand man, I can –"

Vito held up his hand again. Gokudera retracted his cigarette and lighter and let Vito puff a breath of smoke at his own leisure.

"Let's get something straight here," Vito said after a short while of watching Gokudera's enthusiastic face slowly deteriorate to nervousness. "You aren't anybody's right-hand man. You're definitely not mine, so stop calling yourself that. And stop calling me tenth. I've got a name, y'know."

Gokudera's downcast expression that he now wore was exactly what Vito was looking for. "Of course," Gokudera said, still loud in volume but notably without the same enthusiasm as before. "I admit I was too overzealous in my pledge of loyalty to your cause, ten – uh, Tsunayoshi-sama!"

"Another thing," Vito added. "When we're at school or out in public, call me Tsuna, Tsunayoshi, or Sawada. None of that honorifics crap." Vito never made a conscious effort of using honorifics, though he used them automatically after speaking Japanese over a decade. "When we're on the job, call me Vito."

"I – but –" Gokudera tripped over his words. He really wanted to show respect to Vito, and while Vito found Gokudera's devotion a little endearing if a little off-putting, spouting "Tenth!" all the time wasn't exactly subtle. Eventually, Gokudera bowed his head and said, "I am sorry, tenth, but if I am to prove myself worthy of being your right-hand man, then I must –"

"Then you ought to do what you're told," Vito interrupted, "especially when it's your supposed boss telling you what to do. I'm only giving you simple instructions right now. If you can't follow them right, then what chance do you have in me giving the okay for you to be my right-hand?"

After a moment of hesitation, Gokudera met Vito's eyes with a resolute look. "As you command, Vito."

Good. Now they were getting somewhere. "Let's review what's happened today," Vito announced as he put his cigarette against his lips, "because after I went Dying Will on your ass, the details get a little hazy for me."

"Of course," Gokudera said with another bow. "My conventional attacks proved to be ineffective as you in your Dying Will state put out my dynamite fuses faster than they could set off. I attempted to use my experimental Triple Bombs attack, but that technique is still a work-in-progress. I would have blown myself up completely had you not defused the last of my bombs. You graciously saved my life, your would-be assassin, at great risk to your own life. Therefore, my life is yours to make use of however you see fit."

"And then you spent the rest of the school day arguing with Takeshi," Vito recounted, mostly talking to himself as he tried to piece together the blurry memories.

"I understand Takeshi Yamamoto is one of your soldiers," Gokudera began in an even voice before speaking with vehement contempt, "but he acts so casually around you! How can a subordinate with such an informal attitude and a ridiculous obsession with baseball be deserving to bear such uncaring nonchalance in your presence?!"

"Because he's part of my family," Vito said with a disapproving frown directed at Gokudera. "Not talking about blood, but Takeshi's my friend and one of my best guys. For the most part, he respects me, and I respect him. Takeshi's earned the right to act how he wants around me," within reason, of course. He still messes up when he can call Vito "Tsuna" and when he can call him "Vito." That was still an annoying tidbit. "You've done fuck-all to earn the same treatment."

Gokudera dipped his head down in shame. "I understand. Please, ten– Vito, how can I show that I am a trustworthy and useful subordinate fit to work under your rule?"

Vito suddenly felt a weight sit itself on his shoulder. "Yes, Vito," Reborn said with a hint of sarcastic mocking at Tsunayoshi's street name. "While Gokudera shows all the signs of becoming a competent right-hand man and should already be a loyal underling, as per mafia law, what else would you have him do to prove himself?"

God, Vito was never going to get used to the weird laws that rule the mafia in this world. Some of it was the same as in Vito Scaletta's world, but so much else was different. "I don't know why I bothered to save your life, Gokudera," Vito said, and he really didn't know why. His dying wish would've probably been to kill Gokudera outright rather than going the roundabout route of defusing the dynamite themselves, "but the only reason I'm giving you a chance is because Reborn's vouched for you. No way in hell am I making you my right-hand man after barely a day of meeting you. You're gonna have to work your way up the ladder just like everybody else."

With a snap of Vito's fingers, one of the janitors brought over three bottles of beer. If Gokudera was considered old enough to smoke and kill, then he was old enough to drink. "You're a smart guy," Vito told Gokudera, "at least from what the NDC's managed to find on you."

Kusakabe, fully aware of Vito's liking to Italian culture, had given Vito Gokudera's sparse and severely lacking file. A "professional courtesy," Kusakabe had called it, even if the NDC's connections weren't able to get the fully story on Gokudera. Reborn must have done some interference on that end.

"I want you working with Hana as a tutor," Vito said as he took a swig from his drink. "You'll get paid at half her rate. One quarter of what you do make goes to her, and half goes to me. I want you doing a good job, too. No blowing anyone up. Hana will have the final say of whether you've been doing a good job or not."

Gokudera took a quick second to process Vito's instructions. "Hana Kurokawa," he muttered, probably recalling that she was a part of Vito's posse at Namimori Middle. "Your mistress, I take it?"

Vito would literally pay to see Hana's reaction to being called his mistress. Hiding his amusement, Vito went on and said, "Outside of school, you'll be working for the Three Crime Brothers. My man Ichiro is in charge of that crew. My say overrides anything and everything, but as far as you'll be concerned, Ichiro's word is law. He tells you to jump, then you kiss his feet and ask him how high. Capiche?"

"Capiche," Gokudera repeated with a nod. "Are there any other stipulations and prerequisites I must fulfill in order to prove myself?"

Vito thought on it for a moment. "Yeah, actually." Vito set aside his beer and cigarette to reach into his book bag and pull out his notebook. "Math has been kicking my ass lately. Help me out, and I'll forgive you for the attempted murder thing."

A look of pure, confident determination spread across Gokudera's face. "I will help you to the best of my abilities," he said, "Don Sawada."

Vito found himself smiling. "Let's go with Don Vittorio. Now, show me what the hell this equation is supposed to do."

Reborn hopped off Vito's shoulder. "You better hope that Gokudera can help you fully understand this equation, Tsuna," the baby said as Leon morphed into a hand-held timer, "because if you can't complete your homework assignment in the allotted time, you may have to invest in a new location for your business."

Looking up, Vito's eyes scanned the lounge. All of his guys were lying on the floor, unconscious. A cartoonish-looking spherical bomb with a long fuse slowly being consumed by a flame sat at the bar.

Vito's learned to stop questioning or thinking too hard about how Reborn accomplishes these ridiculous, convoluted things so fast, but Vito hasn't stopped getting migraines from them.

Gokudera was at Vito's side in an instant. Gokudera started spouting unintelligible mathematical jargon that amounted to complete garbage to Vito's ears. With a tired sigh, Vito resigned himself to his work.

In between all the bullshit that's happened today, Vito had to give Hayato Gokudera points for trying.

X

Vito rapped his fingers against the front door to TakeSushi. It didn't take long for Takeshi to open it up and beckon Vito inside. "Tsuna!" the young Yamamoto welcomed exuberantly. "What are you doing here? It's pouring outside!"

The heavy rainstorm didn't bother Vito too much. Empire Bay has had worst weather. Vito walked into the restaurant, careful to not brush against the cast around Takeshi's broken arm. Folding up his drenched raincoat and discarding it on a small dining table, Vito plopped down on the adjacent chair and let off a deep, noisy breath. He unzipped his bomber jacket to let the warm air-conditioned draft sink in. "Sorry for coming in unannounced," Vito said. He turned his head to look around the closed restaurant. "Where's your dad?"

"He went shopping for groceries," Takeshi answered, saddling on the chair across from Vito. "I offered to help, but with my arm, he told me to stay home. Why aren't you at your house anyway?"

"Power's out," Vito said. Another one of Reborn's oh-so exciting tutoring sessions was the cause of that. "Rain's also leaking through the roof. I didn't want to deal with any of that today, so I came here."

"What about your mom? Is she back from her trip to Italy?"

Vito leaned back so that he could hide his scowl from Takeshi. "No. I guess she's staying there for a bit longer." Whether she was still grilling the Vongola heads for roping Vito in as the Decimo or spending quality time with Iemitsu, Vito didn't know. All that Reborn was willing to tell him was that Nana wouldn't be home until later than expected.

"Ah, that's too bad." Takeshi turned away from Vito at an angle where Vito couldn't see his face. "My dad's been complaining that she hasn't shown up for work in over a week now. I offered to help wait tables, but with my arm, I guess he needs to find another waitress instead."

That was a good opportunity as any to change topics. "Speaking of, how's the arm doing? When's the latest you'll be back to business with baseball?"

Takeshi shrugged. "It won't be long. My arm will heal by the time the next game comes around. I might be a little rusty by then, but it shouldn't be too much of a problem."

Eyes drooping, Vito gave a distracted nod. He hadn't slept too well last night, courtesy of Reborn.

Takeshi misinterpreted Vito's tired movements. "But I can get back to work at Kawahira's sooner if you need me," he said hurriedly. "Even with my arm as it is, I can probably convince some of the other guys to work overtime and –"

"Jeez, calm down, Takeshi," Vito said with a dismissive hand wave. "We all get our sick days. Even without your bad arm, I'd say you earned yourself a vacation. You could use one anyhow. Overworking is what got you a broken arm in the first place. Right?"

"I guess," Takeshi said as he slumped back against his seat. "Can I ask you something, Tsuna?"

Vito frowned. Takeshi was frowning. Takeshi wasn't the kind of person to frown. He was the kind to always be smiling to the point where he unintentionally pissed people off. "Go on," Vito prompted.

"Am I really doing a good job at Kawahira's?" Takeshi asked. "All I really do is stand around all day."

That was good deal in Vito's opinion, getting paid to just stand around in a not too shabby bar. "Well, you're a popular guy, even outside of Namimori Middle." Girls loved him, boys wanted to be him, and so on. Takeshi's name got around thanks to his stardom in the Namimori Middle baseball team. "People either like you too much to start something or think starting something at all with you would be a net loss for them. It's not your fault that your charming good looks means less work for you."

"But how do you measure my…" Takeshi closed his eyes, pondering on his next words, "success, I think is what you'd call it, if nothing much happens when I'm at the lounge. The other guys deliver things for you, kick the troublemakers out, and do other stuff, too. Sasagawa does his boxing matches, but I haven't done anything like that kind of work in months. How do I know that I'm doing a good job?"

"You're still getting paid, and you haven't been fired. Is that not good enough?" Then Vito remembered that Takeshi got his arm broken because he was apparently overworking at baseball practice. "Listen, man. Just because I don't give you daily reports on your performance at the end of the work day doesn't mean you aren't doing good job. You know me, Takeshi. If there was a problem, then I'd tell it straight to your face, and there aren't any problems that we need to discuss."

Takeshi still looked nervous and unsure. Vito sighed. "Don't try to overthink things. Bottom line: you're a good guy that I know I can rely on if things go south. I didn't get Hayato Gokudera to blow up Nezu's car because I didn't like him. I did it because you asked me for a favor and I wanted to get it done." Vito couldn't say for sure that Takeshi was the kind of a guy Vito Scaletta would have enjoyed hanging out with, but in this life, without Joe or Eddie or Henry around, and without Enma or Mami, Takeshi and the others in Namimori were the next best thing.

Finally, Takeshi smiled again and laughed. "I see your point. Thanks for taking care of Nezu, by the way. He hasn't been hassling me as much as before."

Nezu won't be hassling anyone for the near future. Gokudera made sure of that. "My pleasure," Vito said happily. Saying "pleasure" struck a chord in Vito and reminded him of another reason why he came to TakeSushi. "Oh, and I almost forgot." Vito slipped a hand into the inner pocket of his jacket. He tossed a couple of rolled-up magazines toward Takeshi. "Merry Christmas." When Takeshi opened up the magazines, his face lit up like a bright Christmas light. Vito gave a knowing grin and hopped off his chair. "I'll be in the kitchen. I need a second opinion on my gumbo recipe. I'll call you when it's ready."

Takeshi said nothing as he hurried off upstairs.

Vito didn't know what to think when he found out Playboy mags existed in this world. Regardless, you won't find him or Takeshi complaining about it one bit.

X

Ryohei Sasagawa had a killer uppercut that, even on the boxer's bad days, Vito was hard-pressed to avoid. Even then, if Vito dodged the attack and moved to deliver his own punch, Ryohei would usually end up countering his counter that left Vito more and more wanting to shoot Ryohei in the knee out of sheer frustration.

But no, Ryohei was Kyoko's precious brother and Vito's best fighter. If Vito had to do warm-up spars now and again with Ryohei to keep him pumped for the next boxing match, then Vito was going to get it done without complaint.

Well, maybe a little complaint here and there.

"Fuck this!" Vito shouted after the twentieth goddamn punch to his face. Vito slipped under the ropes of the boxing ring and dragged himself to the water cooler.

"Come on, Sawada!" Ryohei screamed. "Where is your extreme fighting spirit from yesterday?!"

Dying Will Vito was apparently run over by a truck the other day. Or Vito ran through a truck. He couldn't remember. Whatever Vito did, Ryohei had seen it, and it had sparked the always burning fire inside him, and it got Reborn – sorry, Master "PaoPao," that cosplaying tyke – inspired to hold this unscheduled boxing spar at Kawahira's.

"One-minute break," Reborn announced from his perch on a corner of the boxing ring. "Afterwards, the both of you will be fighting with your Dying Will again."

Ryohei exclaimed some extreme declaration that Vito didn't pay any attention to. The fresh, cool water traveling down Vito's throat was too good a revitalizing sensation to ignore. "I agreed to trade love taps, not to have a death match," Vito groaned exasperatedly. "Is this even necessary? Ryohei, you're pumped enough for tonight's fight, aren't you?" Vito didn't wait for the boxer to give his answer. "You are. Good." Vito laid down on a bench. "I'm gonna take a nap."

Reborn kicked Vito off the bench. Vito yelped as he fell with his face flat against the floor. "Should've seen that coming," Vito moaned as he rubbed the side of his head.

"You make a good point, Sawada," Ryohei said thoughtfully, not perturbed in the slightest by Reborn's abuse over Vito. "Your extreme Dying Will was nothing like I've ever faced before. It extremely wasn't your usual style of fighting, but that just made me want to extremely defeat you even more! Now, I will fight my next opponent tonight with all of my extreme Dying Will!"

Vito gave a thumbs-up. "Yeah, you do that."

"You are really confident in Ryohei's fighting ability, Tsuna," Reborn noted aloud. "His opponent is mostly known by his street name 'Boomer.' Correct?"

"A pissant rich kid with too much time on his hands," Vito reported as he rolled onto his back. "Yeah, I did my homework on him. Ryohei's gonna bring in the big bucks tonight."

"Did you make preparations for Boomer's inevitable reprisal?"

Vito snorted. "What reprisal? The kid might be a decent boxer, but he ain't shit out of the ring."

"Alone, he is nothing, but he has the backing of the local Momokyokai Yakuza."

At the mention of the Yakuza, Vito sat up and stared at Reborn. The Momokyokai gang was supposed to be the NDC's problem, but their people trickled into Vito's turf every now and again. They didn't like playing well with others. "What sort of backing?" Vito asked Reborn.

"His childhood best friend's eldest brother is a lieutenant in the gang. Whenever Boomer loses a street fight, he has the Momokyokai kill his opponent, staging the death as an accident."

Fuck. When Vito had looked through Boomer's background, he had not found anything that indicated that Boomer worked like that. "Change of plans, then," Vito said as he pulled himself to his feet.

"No, Sawada," Ryohei said as he held his hand in front of Vito. "I've spent too long bedridden and healing my injuries. I will have an extreme match tonight, regardless of potential assassins. In fact, let Boomer send his assassins! I will extremely fight them, as well."

"No, you are not going to fucking take them all on alone," Vito snapped. "We talked about this. No more street fights. Only fights that you're getting into are in the ring." Vito's hand went to his cell phone. "I'll make some calls. Fuck the Disciplinary Committee. I'll get some boys, maybe some of your guys from the boxing club, and we'll take out those Yakuza punks before they can try anything."

"A splendid idea," Reborn butted in as he raised Leon in his gun form. "Get to it then."

The last thing Vito remembered was the gunshot, and an uncomfortable shake throughout his entire body that reminded him too much of Lincoln Clay executing him.

When Vito regained conscious, his fucking pants were missing again, along with the rest of his clothes. It looked like he was in the private gym on the south side of town. It was Momokyokai owned, so those must be Momokyokai punks scatted across the floor. Ryohei and Boomer were battling it out in the boxing ring.

Something cold was pressing against Vito's hand. He looked down and saw that he was holding a handgun.

The sound of a cough made Vito look up. Kusakabe was there, standing awkwardly beside him. "So, that was your Dying Will Mode you've mentioned before," Kusakabe remarked. "I hadn't had the chance to witness it for myself until now."

Fuck. "What did I do?" Vito hesitantly asked.

"I was at my office when you barged in," Kusakabe replied as he watched the boxing match. "Ryohei was right behind you, as you literally dragged me across Namimori. When we arrived here, you personally incapacitated all of the Momokyokai members. You took one of their guns and ordered Sasagawa and Boomer to hold their scheduled fight right now. I'm apparently here to act as a neutral third-party to provide legitimacy to this crazy ordeal."

And Vito thought up this whole plan while in Dying Will Mode? When did he have the time to formulate and carry out this insane dying wish?

Kusakabe leaned closer to Vito to whisper into his ear. "I'll make sure the other local gangs know that the NDC has sanctioned everything that's happened today. You'll be happy to know that I won't be billing you for this service. I had placed a bet on Ryohei winning, so that will be compensation enough."

Reborn jumped from out of nowhere and onto Vito's shoulder. "You're getting faster, No-Good Tsuna," he said. "You're learning to better utilize the five-minute limit without wasting time. Instead of going to recruit your underlings for the task at hand, you went out to complete it yourself. I'm impressed."

Just for kicks, Vito aimed his gun at Reborn and pressed the trigger. In return, Vito's arm was dislocated as the bullet hit nothing but air and the back wall. Vito shrieked in pain as he nursed his shoulder.

"I said I was impressed by your progress," Reborn said calmly. "I didn't say anything about tolerating any more insubordination from you."

The words "fuck you" were right on the tip of Vito's tongue, but he held back, reserving himself to watch the rest of Ryohei's fight.

He extremely won, obviously. There was no question about it.

Later, while NDC members moved to drag Boomer and the rest of the Momokyokai gang to jail or the NDC's own private prisons, Vito treated Ryohei and Kusakabe to a home-cooked dinner.

X

Five-year-old Lambo Bovino was really too much of a handful for Vito to seriously bother with. He was a literal child that was more spoiled and annoying than he was endearing and cutesy.

Lambo from ten years later, on the other hand, had a much more interesting story to tell.

"Sorry, young Vongola," Lambo apologized with a shrug of his shoulders and a bow of his head, "but I'm not allowed to tell you much of anything about the future."

"Don't play that 'time paradox' card on me," Vito said as he leaned forward. He and Lambo were sitting at the small outdoor table in Vito's backyard. "What's the point of time travel if you don't use it to your advantage?"

"There are uses to the ten-year bazooka," Lambo said, "but there are still rules I must abide by. Your future self outlined some of those rules for me, you know."

It was too early in the morning for Vito to start up another argument. "At least tell me one thing."

"Of course, you inevitably become the world renowned and official Vongola Decimo," Lambo confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice. "You're a wonderful boss and an even better older brother. I know my younger self can be too childish for your tastes, but I grew up admiring you. I don't think any of us back then knew just how well you fit into the world of the mafia. Not Hayato, not Reborn, not even Yuni or –"

"I wasn't going to ask about that," Vito chimed in. He filed the name Yuni to the back of his mind for later. "Becoming the boss is a given. I want to know if I ever find Enma, Mami, and Makoto again. I want to know how the Simon Family factors into my life ten years from now."

There was a twinkle in Lambo's open eye now. "I'm not allowed to give you any hints on that either."

"Tell me," Vito plainly ordered.

"If you think it's a given that you'll become the boss," Lambo teased smartly, "shouldn't the status of your relationship with the Simon Family be obvious?"

So, Lambo learned how to be a cheeky smart aleck over the years. "Is there anything stopping me from using the bazooka on myself?"

Something thwacked against the back of Vito's head. He glared at Reborn, who was rocking on a hammock by a tree with a snot bubble blowing out of his nose. A twig that wasn't there before was now at the base of Vito's chair, and Leon was suspiciously shaped in the form of a bird's nest on a tree branch beside Reborn.

"I think you have your answer," Lambo said with a snicker. "Reborn and his animal partner are still harsh taskmasters ten years later. Even I still haven't bested him in a fight quite yet."

"What a surprise," Vito said under his breath, ticked off that he wasn't getting anything useful out of future Lambo.

The grown-up cow child was still smiling with amusement at Vito. "Oh, young Vongola," Lambo said almost wistfully, "I've forgotten how selfish of a Sky you once were. You should really stop trying to hog the spotlight and learn to share. The world is more than just about your own ambitions to reunite with your adopted siblings and to rule the mafia with an iron fist."

Sky. Vito was supposed to wield Sky Flames. He was a little rusty on his Sky Flame lore, but from what Vito did know, the Sky tended to the one other flames were naturally predisposed to latch onto and follow. "They say that the sky's limit," Vito said, "so if I'm the Sky of the world's largest crime family, then there are no limits for me."

Lambo closed his eyes and gently shook his head, "There are limits set in place for all of us." Lambo said, "Including you, young Vongola. I cannot tell you much, but please remember that Vito Scaletta's Dying Will alone won't be enough to save your family."

Vito felt his whole body go cold and rigid. The only people he's ever uttered the name Scaletta to were to the Kozatos. Even then, aside from Vito's confession to Makoto, Scaletta was supposed to be a faceless fairy tale hero and not Tsunayoshi Sawada's or Vito Kozato's real name. Did Vito and Lambo really grow close enough for Vito to tell him the truth?

With a puff of smoke, the future Lambo disappeared before Vito could even begin to ask more questions.

X

Vito stood in front of the door to the school's reception room. Takeshi was on Vito's right, and Gokudera was on Vito's left, as per Vito's orders.

"You guys know the deal?" Vito asked one more time.

"Absolutely," Gokudera confirmed as he pulled out his sticks of dynamite, "Don Vittorio."

"Yeah, Vito," Takeshi said with a smile and a nod. He readied his baseball bat. "I'll admit that I'm nervous, but I'm with you."

"Show some more resolve, you baseball freak!"

"Gokudera," Vito said sternly, "shut up. Takeshi, get your game face on. Let's do this." Vito kicked open the door.

Kyoya Hibari was sitting on the back of a couch. He wore a tie and held a tonfa in one hand.

"Herbivore," Hibari said, more as a form of acknowledgement than as a polite greeting. "You're late. And you're crowding."

Gokudera flung his dynamite. Hibari ducked under them, the bombs flying out of an open window and exploding in mid-ar. As Hibari charged the "herbivores," Takeshi swung his bat. Hibari deflected the attack. They exchanged blows for a while as Gokudera readied another set of dynamite.

Before Gokudera lit the fuses, Vito held up his arm in front of him. "Takeshi'll get caught in the blast," Vito said. Gokudera grunted in a mix of annoyance and disappointment.

Hibari went for Takeshi's right arm, and Takeshi was done for and off to dreamland. Gokudera made ready to release his weapons, but Hibari was now dashing straight for Vito. Gokudera dove in the way. With a downward strike to Gokudera's head, the Italian was down for the count, too.

"Are you done yet?" Hibari taunted in a flat voice as he turned toward Vito. Hibari couldn't fully turn, however, since Vito pressed the barrel of a revolver against the back of Hibari's skull.

The very second Vito pulled the trigger, Hibari was a blur of movement. The bullet only tore off small slivers of hair off Hibari's head as the head prefect shoved his tonfa into Vito's gut. Vito lost his breath and only just managed to pistol whipped Hibari. Vito fired again, but Hibari was  _not_ going to give Vito the opportunity to get a better shot. Hibari moved too fast and was to close for Vito do much else than to punch and pistol whip.

As Vito came to the point when he could taste blood in his mouth, Vito eventually realized that Hibari was only using one tonfa in this fight. For one reason or another, the other tonfa was lying on the couch. Vito pressed the cylinder of his revolver to Hibari's head and fired. The noise alone was enough to momentarily stun Hibari. Vito kicked him back a few feet to get some distance. Then, after throwing the now empty gun at Hibari for good measure, Vito lunged for the spare tonfa.

Coming from behind, Hibari tried going for the backside of Vito's neck. The only reason Vito knew that was the case was because he felt the skylark's weapon graze his skin. Fortunately, it wasn't enough to stop Vito from rounding behind Hibari and grabbing him in a chokehold.

Vito was far from in complete control of the chokehold. Hibari thrashed wildly and unpredictably. Vito only tightened his grip and hoped to God it wouldn't take an eternity for Hibari to go down.

Instead of Hibari losing unconscious, Hibari thrust both himself and Vito out the open window. The pair fell down three stories.

They landed in the school pool. Vito had taken a deep breath before they were submerged, but Hibari's mouth was still wide open. Still thrashing around and struggling, Vito discarded simply choking and went for trying to drown Hibari.

The attempt didn't last long. With an embarrassing squeal, Vito was thrown out of the pool. He landed near the base of the pool's small lifeguard tower. Now on solid ground, Vito panted desperately for air.

Hibari pulled himself out of the pool with the most frenzied and wildest smile that Vito's ever seen on the lunatic. He held both of his tonfas now. "Wow," Hibari said. "You're getting more fun."

"And you're a goddamn nutjob," Vito shot back as he reached for the spare pistol he had hid under the lifeguard tower. Vito lined up his shot and fired.

Bubbles blew out of Vito's gun. Both Vito and Hibari stared as the bubbles floated in the air and were whisked away or outright popped by the breeze.

Vito knew for a fact that the gun he had hidden here was a real gun paid by real drug money. It was not supposed to be this shitty, cheap knock-off of a kid's toy.

Looking up, Vito saw Reborn standing on the seat of the lifeguard tower. "That's enough for now," Reborn said. He leaped down to the ground and regarded Hibari was an analyzing gaze. "So, you are strong after all, Kyoya Hibari."

Hibari charged for Reborn. Unflinching, Reborn used a baton-shaped Leon to block Hibari's tonfa. The echo that resounded from the two weapons clashing made Vito wince.

"Wow," Hibari said again. "You're impressive."

Reborn's smile almost mirrored Hibari's. Vito shuddered at the thought of the two of them teaming up to destroy the world. "I'm here to renegotiate the deal between the Namimori Disciplinary Committee and my student's gang."

"I want to fight you," Hibari said, ignoring Reborn's words. However, with one thwack from the Leon baton, Reborn forced Hibari back a step. Reborn sprung to Vito's shoulder.

"From now on," Reborn continued, "Tsuna will provide twice the tribute that he is currently supplying to the NDC." Vito didn't even bother voicing any objections. Reborn would just kick his ass if he even tried. "These four fights a week will be downsized to once per week."

"Unacceptable," Hibari gave his answer. He still had that feral smile on. "Baby. Fight me, now."

"I can't have Tsuna getting constantly tired out from his fights with you," Reborn went on. "One fight a week should suffice. Plus, as my tutorship with Tsuna goes on, strong fighters will come to Namimori in time. They should be more than adequate challengers for you to appease your bloodlust."

Hibari still seemed ready to sink his teeth into something and to bite it to death. Reborn added, "Should you agree to these terms, I will have more time to train Tsuna. He will grow strong enough to give you the most arduous fight you will ever find yourself in."

"And I will get to fight you?" Hibari asked, sounding like he thought Vito was yesterday's news, and that fighting Reborn was the only thing on Hibari's mind.

Reborn didn't say a word. He only smiled.

Eventually, Hibari sauntered off, still wearing his own smile. Vito let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Whatever was communicated between the two animals during the silent stare down, at least it was over.

"Congratulations on putting up a good fight, Tsuna," Reborn said as he faced Vito. "I thought I would have to use the Dying Will Bullet on you at some point, but you did better than I thought you would."

Vito scoffed as he let his body fall flat against the floor. He stared into the sky as he absently shot more bubbles into the air. "I don't think fighting as if I were to die all the time is very healthy," Vito mumbled. If Vito was willing to die while trying to kill Hibari, he'd have probably gone with a suicide bombing rather than bringing guns to a tonfa fight. "No, I was fighting fully with the intention of living afterward."

Faintly, Vito could hear Gokudera and Takeshi shouting his name. They must've woken up not long after getting their asses kicked.

Closing his eyes, Vito let the darkness and exhaustion take him.


	5. ... is Greater Than to Our Own Families

Honestly, Vito didn't blame Dino for getting the two of them stuck in the hospital. Vito didn't even blame Reborn. No, it really was Vito's fault for accidentally dropping Dino's pet turtle Enzo into a sink. It didn't matter that Vito had been spending the night at the clinic 'cause of another biting fist fight with Hibari, and so was a little tired and out of it when Dino and Reborn paid him a visit. Vito was warned of Enzo's unnatural ability to expand into an oversized version of itself, and Vito had completely forgotten about that ability when Dino had offered to let Vito pet it.

The clinic was a wreck afterward, and Vito and Dino were sharing a hospital room as they nursed their broken limbs for at least another day or two. Despite that, Vito found some solace in Dino's embarrassed, pleading apologies and his insistence to reimburse all the damages and costly expenses caused by Enzo's rampage.

"Again, I'm really sorry about everything," Dino was saying as he peered over his neck brace.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Vito waved off as he looked under his bandaged leg that hung in the air thanks to a sling. "No one died, and we didn't get roomed with Hibari when we got sent here. I'd say today's been a pretty good day, considering the kinds of days I've had since Reborn showed up."

Dino gave a sympathetic laugh. "I know what you mean. I have to be honest, Tsuna. You have it lucky. Back when Reborn was training me, he'd still be making me do math homework while I recover and threaten to burn up all my comic books if I didn't get all the answers right, yet he only paid us the one visit today before leaving."

Vito shut his eyes and shrugged. "I'm betting he's preparing something for when I get home. Most of his tutoring shtick has been at the school or Kawahira's lately. This is the calm before the storm, I'm sure." Vito can picture it now, Reborn holding some frenzied dogs by their leashes and just waiting to let them go and tear his balls off.

"Probably," Dino agreed. A short pause filled the air between them. "By the way, who's Hibari? You've mentioned him before. Is he also part of your family?"

Vito thought on his answer. "Not really. Let's just say that he's not someone you want to run into alone in a dark alley." Vito glanced at Dino. "That goes double, for you, I think, considering..."

Dino made an insulted scoffing sound. Vito only barely saw his flushed face. "Vito, come on..."

With a smirk, Vito said, "Dino Cavallone, barely old enough to drink in the States, tenth generation head of the Chiavarone Family, expert whip master, and most importantly, a man incapable of even tying his own shoes without one of his fanboys there to kiss his boots and make him feel better." The incompetence and clumsiness Dino displayed when his subordinates weren't around was one of the craziest things Vito's seen in this world's mafia. Dying Will Flames and one-man-army babies still took the cake, but Dino was really a special one.

"It wasn't my supposed 'incompetence' that made me lose my shoe down that drainpipe," Dino argued. "It was – It was sabotage from Reborn! It must have been!"

"I asked the baby himself. All the tripping over your own two feet, the friendly fire when you use your whip – that's all you." And Vito's got the bruises to prove it. "I know that a person's supposed to show his Don the upmost of respect, but you must be something else if none of your guys call you out on your... 'condition,' let's call it."

Dino huffed and turned his head away from Vito. "I thought little brothers were supposed to be more reverential toward their elders, but your snide comments can almost be as bad as Reborn's sometimes."

Vito laughed. He liked Dino. He really did. Dino had it in his mind to be this impressive and inspiring big brother to Vito, except he didn't come off so much as inspiring as he did eccentric and hilarious when his fanboys weren’t around. Forgetting about his mob connections for a minute, Dino was a hell of a guy that Vito wouldn't complain about calling a brother.

The only other guys Vito considered to be his brothers were Joe and Enma. While Vito liked to think himself as the wiser, more mature one, when it really came down to it, they were all more or less on the same playing field. Joe saved his ass as many times as Vito has saved his. Enma needed a little work, but Vito was absolutely confident that whenever they reunited, Enma would stand as an equal alongside Vito.

Vito never had anyone that he had really considered an older brother. He did have the odd mentor figure who was only a few years older than himself. Sergeant Hawkins was one, back during the war. Pepé Costa showed Vito some of the ropes during his stint in prison. Kusakabe sort of tried to be an older brother figure, though he wasn't around much since his loyalty was by default to Hibari.

Henry Tomasino was the brotherly mentor figure Vito knew the longest. When Vito first met him, Henry was everything that Vito wanted to be. Made man, slick suit, professional killer, and the attitude that just commanded respect.

Glancing out the window, Vito saw a horde of Dino's men crowding the hospital parking lot. Without having to double check, Vito was also pretty sure Romario and a few other of Dino's toadies were standing guard out in the hallway.

Vito hasn't seen Dino do much to command respect. A part of Dino came off as an idiot, but another part of him really was the impressive, inspiring boss who had a loyal family ready to catch him when he falls.

"You survived Reborn," Vito told Dino supportively. "Anything I say or do has to be child's play in comparison to what you've already gone through with him as your tutor."

The chuckle Dino gave meant that he was back in his easygoing spirits. "You give me too much credit, Tsuna. I didn't want to become a mafia boss when Reborn started tutoring me, but you were already a criminal when the mafia put its claws on you, right? You must have thicker skin than I did when I was your age. First the incident with the Simon Family, then your deals with Namimori's gangs, and now the Vongo–"

"You know about me and the Simon Family?" Vito interrupted as he whipped his head around to look directly into Dino's eyes. Dino returned his stare with a flat, neutral expression.

"I do," Dino confirmed.

"Do you know where I can find Makoto Kozato and –"

Abruptly, Vito felt his mouth forcibly clamp shut. He bit his tongue and held in a righteous squeal that would have otherwise probably been at a high enough pitch to break glass.

After having kicked Vito's jaw, Reborn landed on Vito's bandaged foot. Reborn shook his head disappointedly. "We have been over this, Tsuna," Reborn said. "The Simon Family is currently still banned from doing business with the Vongola Family and several of its allies. Soliciting help from the Chiavarone Family is bad form." A glare was sent Dino's way, dissuading him from giving his two cents on the whole deal.

Despite that, Dino still said his piece. "Think of it this way, Tsuna. Once you're officially the boss, you can do business with whoever you –" Dino choked as Reborn dropped onto the pretty boy's stomach.

"Don't encourage him."

Well, there went that idea.

Both Vito and Dino spent an extra day in the hospital 'cause of Reborn. To add insult to injury, Vito ended up getting roomed with Hibari. After getting discharged, Vito didn't speak to Reborn for a week.

X

Yesterday, Vito woke up to the sound of one of Lambo's grenades going off. Today, Vito woke up to his body being raised five feet above his bed.

"Fuuta," Vito said sternly without opening his eyes.

Almost instantly, Vito fell back onto his bed. He could hear the thumps and thuds of some furniture and décor around his room audibly land or fall over. There was also a childish cry, probably Fuuta tripping over something as he stopped levitating and regained his senses. At the sound of breaking glass, Vito finally opened his eyes.

"Sorry, Tsuna-nii!" Fuuta apologized as he tried to sweep away the shards of a light bulb with a tennis racket, the one that Vito had borrowed from Hana for an extortion job. "The ranking planet was in alignment again and –"

"Hey, hey! Don't use that!" Vito sprung out of bed and picked up Fuuta. He ignored the kid's whines and sat him on the desk where Vito usually did his homework. From his closet, Vito got an old broom and dustpan to clean up the mess. "I said it before, Fuuta. Ranking planet or not, you do this stuff in the backyard with Bianchi making sure you don't hurt yourself. We go through enough broken plates and light bulbs with Lambo and I-Pin running around all day."

When Vito turned back to Fuuta, he was too busy scribbling chicken scratch down in his ranking book. Vito rolled his eyes. Picking up a pillow, Vito tossed it at Fuuta's face.

"Hey," Vito said again. "Wake up, will ya? You've been doing sleep-ranking again, haven't you?" Vito didn't exactly enjoy waking up in the middle of the night because Fuuta was in his ranking trance and causing everyone in the room to hover over the floor (except for Reborn. Reborn always manages to get a good night's sleep despite Fuuta's unconscious ranking. So, Reborn can go fuck himself, as usual).

"Maybe," Fuuta admitted quietly before raising up his book. "But I've gotten so many new rankings for you, Tsuna! You ranked very high on your capability to transform an illicit criminal enterprise into an honest, legitimate business. You also ranked low on building any successful business without using illegal and violent methods to succeed, but you also ranked number one in potential to reform the mafia for the better!"

Vito didn't know how much stock to put into Fuuta's rankings what with all the rain lately, but they had more important things to worry about at the moment. Vito dumped the broken glass into a trash can and turned to Fuuta. Channeling the memories of Makoto kneeling in front of Mami before he engaged in some fatherly reprimanding, Vito leaned in front of the Ranking Prince and said, "You trust me, right, Fuuta?"

Fuuta's innocent smile gave away his answer before he spoke. "Of course!" the kid said with an exuberant nod. "You ranked high in trustworthiness and loyalty with those you consider to be family. Since I'm a part of your family now, I know that you'll protect me and my book from anyone who would abuse my rankings!"

"Yeah, but being a part of my family doesn't mean you can do whatever you want and ignore me when I tell you what to do. The late night and early morning rankings gotta stop." Fuuta pouted, which reminded Vito a lot of Enma. "Don't you want to set a good example for the kids? Lambo and I-Pin need a good role model to follow. What do you think they're gonna do if you start doing crap like this again and again?"

After a moment of thought, Fuuta solemnly nodded before giving a toothy grin. "Don't worry, Tsuna-nii! I'll be a good role model! I'll try to do my rankings only when it's convenient and not always whenever the ranking planet establishes a good connection."

"Not try," Vito corrected. "You will."

"Right!" Fuuta saluted. "I will! I promise!"

"Good." Vito took another gander around the bedroom. Reborn's hammock was still in place, but Fuuta's bed and Lambo's bed were overturned with their toys and knickknacks scattered haphazardly. I-Pin and Bianchi were sharing the guest bedroom, so if any more mobster kids or strays ended up moving in, Vito was seriously considering taking the initiative of buying a new house. "Come on. Let's have breakfast. I'm cooking."

After getting a pat on the back, Fuuta dutifully followed Vito down the staircase. The kid left in the direction of the living room where the TV was radiating loud gunshots and explosions. At least, Vito hoped the sounds were from the TV. Regardless, when Vito entered the kitchen, he nearly died from a heart attack from what he saw.

"What do you think you're doing in here?" Vito screeched as Bianchi dumped a spoonful of some ungodly purple substance into a bubbling, simmering pot.

"My poison cooking isn't magically summoned out of thin air," Bianchi said in a deadpan, without turning to face Vito. "Preparation is required for –"

Vito didn't let her finish her sentence. He put on the gas mask and thick yellow gloves that he hung alongside the cutting board, grabbed the volatile pot, and dumped the poisonous substance into the sink. Fortunately, the poison cooking went through the drain without destroying the sink itself. Glaring at Bianchi, Vito snapped, "The kids eat in here! My friends eat in here! Your freakin' brother eats in here! I told you to find your own kitchen if you need to cook anything! You. Don't. Use. The House. Kitchen."

Unimpressed and unamused, Bianchi leaned against the counter as she haughtily folded her arms "I know better than to let children be near when I'm cooking. I'm a professional assassin, and I clean up my messes."

"Yeah, a professional assassin in love with a two-year-old," Vito muttered under his breath. Bianchi must have still heard him, however, since her eyes flared and she held up a plate of twitching, purple calamari.

Bianchi stopped when Reborn, popping out of the sink drain like fish flopping out of water (and Reborn was wearing a goldfish costume, too), landed on Bianchi's head and announced, "No-Good Tsuna, I want pancakes for breakfast."

The baby's ex-lover was quick to wrap her arms around him. "Oh, Reborn! I can make you a fresh batch right now!"

"Tsuna has already sorely disappointed me with his gumbo." Vito gave Reborn the finger. Vito had used his mama's gumbo recipe for that dish. Ain't nothing else can top it. "If he makes pancakes which have a satisfactory taste, then No-Good Tsuna will redeem himself."

Vito rolled his eyes as he put away his poison safety gear. While Bianchi continued to whisper sweet-nothings into Reborn's ear, Vito went to work, picking out the ingredients and cooking utensils by the oven and stove and whatnot.

As Vito set down plates on the dining table, Vito called out toward the living room, "Food's ready!" Bianchi and Reborn took their seats. Vito grinned when he saw Fuuta dragging in Lambo and I-Pin. Usually, it was Fuuta chasing I-Pin who was chasing Lambo into the dining table. Today, now it was Fuuta leading the charge. Fuuta sure did learn a lot faster on how to act like a self-assured boss than Enma did at this age.

"But Lambo wanted waffles!" the Bovino kid complained with a grating snort.

"Well," Vito said with a tired frown, way too used to Lambo's bratty complaints, "if you don't want to eat, I guess that means more for the rest of us." Vito picked up Lambo's plate and made motions to dump his pancakes onto I-Pin's and Fuuta's plates. The two kids cheered. Lambo's eyes bulged as he stared the precious food get taken away from him. Slamming his palms against the table, Lambo started jumping excitedly from his seat.

"I changed my mind! I changed my mind!"

The kids started laughing as Lambo started to scarf down on his pancakes. Now that the spoiled brat was calmed down and not starving himself, Vito took his seat and dug into his own syrup-soaked grub.

I-Pin happened to be sitting next to Vito. She pulled at his sleeve and said, "Thank you for making us food, Tsuna-nii."

Vito returned her smile. "No problem. Just don't let it go to waste." I-Pin was Vito's favorite of the kids.

Reborn, back in his suit, spoke with his mouth full. "Good enough, Tsuna," came the muffled half-assed praise. "You would make the critically acclaimed chef Vongola Quarto proud."

Apparently, the fourth boss of the Vongola Family didn't want to become the boss, kind of like Dino. Vongola Quarto had wanted to make his living as chef instead of a criminal. Fate had other plans for him, unfortunately.

Still, from the history books Reborn has given Vito, it sounded like Quarto was able to live a pretty good life with a beautiful wife and plenty of kids even as a stone-cold criminal. As Vito looked on as Lambo started choking on a slice of pancake, I-Pin slapped his back to try to save him, Bianchi offered him an inexplicably poisonous glass of water, and as Fuuta tried to get Bianchi to stop holding the poisonous drink so close to Lambo's nose, Vito wondered whether or not Tsunayoshi "Vito" Sawada would make a pretty good family man with a wife and kids down the line.

Then Lambo fired his bazooka. Bianchi went off to chase older Lambo out of the house, older I-Pin left to deliver an order of noodles to Kawahira, and Fuuta was back to levitating with misty eyes as he processed more rankings.

The dining room was a fucking mess now. Reborn was nonplussed and continued to eat his breakfast with Leon acting as a makeshift table. What did Vito do? He threw his plate against the wall out of sheer frustration and headed upstairs to catch up on sleep.

X

Leaning against a doorframe, Vito casually lit his Cuban cigar. "I didn't know you were into these kinds of things," Vito said.

Kawahira, opposite Vito, chuckled as he fondled his own smoking cigar in his hand. "We all have our guilty pleasures."

They were at Kawahira's shop. The lounge was closed today, but Vito came anyway to drop off Kawahira's share of this week's money and to talk financials. Kawahira had offered up the cigars, and Vito had accepted.

"Let me ask you something, Kawahira," Vito eventually said after a few moments of silent smoking. "You're a pretty learned, worldly kind of guy. Aren't you?"

"I like to think myself as such, yes," Kawahira confirmed as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his noise. "You want some sage-old advice. Don't you?"

Boy, Vito wouldn't complain about getting some. "What, me? Asking for advice? I mean, I'm only losing sleep and my good health with Reborn's torture tutoring and the bullshit he keeps sending my way. My mother's still in Italy, too, and Iemitsu hasn't been sending any money since Reborn waltzed into my life, so now all my extra cash is going into keeping five extra people clothed and fed." Screw whatever deal Reborn worked out between Bianchi and the Vongola Family. Vito was seriously considering making Bianchi pay rent to make up for the drain in money. "You ever have kids? I've barely gone through puberty and I'm already starting to feel like an old man."

Kawahira hummed amusedly. "No kids. Closet I've gotten is babysitting, and I learned right away that keeping an eye on children day-to-day is too overbearing on my old bones."

Old bones? Kawahira didn't look that old, but maybe Kawahira's also got some mafia or Dying Will Flame shenanigans making him look young. At this point, Vito certainly wouldn't be surprised if he did. "Don't even get me started on the Kokuyo gang inching into our territory. Kuskabe keeps saying that the NDC's gonna handle it, but my mules keep getting mugged. Total horseshit, the whole deal."

Vito blew smoke into the air and looked up at Kawahira. "Got any of that sage-old advice you mentioned? How would you handle trying to run a decent business with all this crazy crap getting slung my way?"

All things considered, Vito was in considerably better circumstances now than he was back in Empire Bay or New Bordeaux. His age and his limited sphere of influence notwithstanding, he wasn't starving, cold, or dirt poor, and he was still plenty independent and self-sufficient even with Reborn hanging on his shoulder. It's just the stress of making sure everything Vito has built doesn't topple over itself that's been getting to him lately.

With another hum, Kawahira's eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim lighting as he stared absently into the smoke. "I never liked micromanaging," he said. "Unlike me, you have to be very personal in your line of work. You meet people face-to-face, personally hand them money, make a show of portraying you and your organizations capabilities, and so on. You assign some of these tasks to your minions, but from my observations, many of them hardly match your level of insight and professionalism."

Well, Vito couldn't help it if most of his "minions" were green as grass. Delivery runs and acting as muscle were simple enough jobs, but the finesse needed to impress the NDC, run a solvent business, and handle Reborn's schemes doesn't come from being a snot-nosed kid. It took everything Vito's been through in his past life plus some to make it this far.

"I am more fortunate than you," Kawahira continued. "I have the luxury of outsourcing labor to confident and competent laborers. I don't cook noodle soup. I order them. I don't file my taxes and keep record of my expenses; Wonomichi handles that for me. I hardly make money off of selling antiques. Not enough to keep the store open. You generate plenty of profit for the shop to get by."

Sauntering through the smoke permeating throughout the room, Kawahira slumped back onto an antique chair. "I am old, Vito, and I have earned the right to sit back and let the younger generation carry the brunt of the weight." Kawahira pointed a bony finger at Vito. "You – You are still young. You still have the rest of your life to endure. While you may have a large weight on your own shoulders now and for the many days to come, I suggest you look forward to the future, once you have earned the power to shift the weight onto others."

Vito thought on Kawahira's words. Yeah. All the pains he's going through right now are going to pay out in the end. The regular working man can only dream of being at the top by the end of his life. The dreams of made men like Vito – if they didn't get snuffed out too fast too soon with an unlucky roll of the dice – those dreams were going to become real things sooner or later.

He could see it now. Vito Sawada, the Vongola Decimo, living in the penthouse at the top of a grand casino, looking out over one of a thousand cities that he'll own once he becomes a real boss.

"Or perhaps the weight you are carrying will crush yourself," Kawahira added, "and you will die, thus alleviating yourself of all your present burdens."

"I don't plan on dying anytime soon," Vito said confidently. He's already died once, and it was a shitty death in his opinion. This time around, when he dies, it better be either while lying comfortably in his bed with a beautiful woman in his arms or in one hell of a blaze of glory.

Someone knocked on the front door of the shop. "Oi, Tsuna!" shouted Takeshi's voice. "Are you still here?"

"Of course he is, you fool!" yelled another voice. "Don Vittorio is conducting important business! Don't interrupt him!"

Someone else started knocking the door, making it rattle noisily along its hinges. "Sawada! You better not be smoking again! That is more than extremely bad for your health!"

That was when Vito decided that it was time to move on. He flicked his cigar at Kawahira, who deftly caught it without even looking up. "You have a future ripe and full of potential ahead of you, young one," Kawahira said as Vito headed for the front entrance. "Don't squander yourself before your prime, like so many before you have. I expect great things from you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Vito said over his shoulder as he slipped pass the doors and stepped into a momentarily blinding ray of light. Vito had to tip the brim of his hat over his eyes before his vision could adjust.

Vito felt his arm be embraced and snuggled against. He turned to see Haru Miura hugging him and resting the side of her cheek on Vito's shoulder.

"Oh, Tsuna," the girl purred. "It's been too long since the last time Haru got to snuggle with you! Did you miss Haru?"

"It's barely been fifty-nine minutes since you last laid your paws on Don Vittorio, you stupid girl!" yelled Vito's ever loyal self-proclaimed right-hand man.

Narrowing his eyes, Vito centered a glare squarely on Gokudera, "Hey. When you speak to a woman, you show her some respect." Except for Bianchi. Bianchi was crazy, but Haru was a nice enough gal who didn't deserve to get bombarded by Gokudera's shit.

Immediately, Gokudera was on his knees and bowing his head, all the while muttering vehement apologies and requests for forgiveness.

Takeshi let out a laugh. Ryohei nodded approvingly. "Always the gentleman to the extreme, Sawada," the boxer said.

"Yeah, yeah," Vito said with a dismissive handwave at Ryohei's compliment. "Gokudera, get up. Stop embarrassing yourself." Gokudera pulled himself to his feet. His posture was a bit rigid, probably resisting to give Haru the stink eye so that his ever-glorious boss would be appeased.

Haru continued to comfort herself against Vito's arm. He shuffled a little. Haru was always more Kyoko's and Hana's friend, but after Vito saved her life ('cause of another scenario concocted by Reborn) the other day, Haru decided to proclaim her eternal love for Vito, or some shit like that. Vito couldn't exactly remember the finer points of the rescue or Haru's apparent confession.

"Are you ready for our date, Tsuna?" Haru asked brightly as she continued to snuggle.

"Date?" Takeshi repeated, scratching his head in confusion. "I thought we were all meeting up with Kyoko and Hana at the arcade?"

Vito nodded. "That's right." Pulling out a couple of breath mints out of his pocket and popping them into his mouth, Vito marched on forward. "Let's not keep them waiting."

Haru was pouting in disappointment, but she still held on to Vito. Vito let her. He ignored Takeshi, Gokudera, and Ryohei's bickering and took some comfort in Haru's warmth.

X

The sounds of victorious 8-bit music drummed against Vito's ears. As his opponent let out a celebratory scream, Vito stared at the arcade machine's blinking high score screen with a sliver of bitterness.

Kyoko playfully punched Vito in the shoulder. "Don't be a sore loser, Tsuna," she joked. "That's just another five dollars you owe me now!"

Adding Vito's previous losses and coins he's already put into the machine, Vito was down another two hundred dollars. Vito knew that Kyoko was saving up her American money for the Sasagawa family trip to the States next summer, but he didn't know she was willing to play a hustle on Vito himself to stock up on cash.

"Let's go get some grub," Vito decided to say. He handed Kyoko her money. As she counted the bills in her hands, he led the way to the food court. The mall was bustling today, so Vito held Kyoko close so they wouldn't lose sight of each other.

The gang had left the arcade early and already had a table with food occupied for themselves. Vito and Kyoko swerved around passerby and took their seats.

"Why are you looking so down, Tsuna?" Takeshi teased as he slid him a burger across the table. "Did Kyoko beat you again?"

Hana, a smoothie in her hand, snorted. "And yet you complain constantly about losing money. Why are you betting against Kyoko when you know you can't beat her?"

"It's called a gamble," Vito said only somewhat defensively. "A gamble that I lost. You don't have to rub it in my face."

"That's right!" Gokudera, mouth full of French fries, declared. "Tsunayoshi knows when to admit fault! You have no right lecturing him!"

Exhaling an exasperated sigh, Vito dragged his palm along his face. "Gokudera," Vito raised his voice slightly, "no one likes a brownnoser."

Bowing his head, and inadvertently smashing his temple into his sandwich, Gokudera began another shame-fueled apology spree. Takeshi chuckled at Gokudera's behavior. When Kyoko whispered something into Ryohei's ear, the siblings joined in on the laughter.

As she was spun a plastic spoon around her bowl of ice cream, Haru whimpered. "Why can't Haru sit next to Tsuna?" she complained. Haru was sitting on one end of the table while Vito was on the other side.

Gokudera lifted his head, looking ready to give Haru the verbal third degree. Instead, he snatched up a napkin, wiped his face clean, and recomposed himself. In a calm voice, he said, "Earning Tsunayoshi's favor takes more than mere cuddles and compliments. You must prove yourself worthy of his affection."

Haru slapped her hands against the edge of the table and glared at Gokudera. "Haru has done more to earn Tsuna's affection than you, mister no-one's-right-hand-man!"

Gokudera spat out something incomprehensible in indignation. He and Haru started up another argument that Vito didn't have the patience to play peace maker in. Takeshi and Kyoko excused themselves to get refills for their drinks. Hana chewed on her food quietly and thoughtfully while Ryohei started shouting, too.

Vito sipped his soda from a straw as he watched over his friends. They can be a noisy, annoying bunch, but hey, you do what you gotta do for family.

"I HAD A WET DREAM WITH HANA, KYOKO, AND BIANCHI."

Vito froze. Everyone around Vito halted whatever they were doing and stared at him.

Who the fuck just said that? That voice sounded a lot like Vito's, but something was off about it. For one, Vito would never divulge such embarrassing information to anyone, ever. For another, Vito had his mouth clamped shut when those words were spoken. Vito looked all around him but didn't see anything or anyone suspicious – not even Reborn.

"Tsunayo-yoshi," Gokudera stuttered with a deep, deep blush and a cough that fought against an upchuck, "did you really dream of – it's not my place to question it! But still, did you –"

"Tsuna!" Haru chimed in, wearing tears and an equally crimson flush on her cheeks. "Is that true? Did you dream of all the other attractive girls you know except for me?"

"I didn't dream about anything like that!" Vito said quickly. Goddamn it, he could feel himself blushing, too! He was better than this!

"I CRIED LIKE A BITCH WHEN MY MAMA DIED."

Jumping out of his chair, Vito took another gander at his surroundings. He still didn't see jack shit that could tell him who was spilling all of Vito's secrets out in broad daylight.

"I HATE SUSHI. I ONLY EAT AT TAKESUSHI AND COMPLIMENT THE FOOD TO AVOID HURTING TAKESHI'S FEELINGS."

Fuck!

"Sawada!" Ryohei screeched as he pointed his finger dramatically at Vito's hand. "Your tattoo is speaking! When did you get a tattoo?"

There was an image of a smoky, black skull on Vito's skin. It was no tattoo. Its jaws moved as it spoke. "I CHOKED ON A LOLIPOP AND HAD TO SPEND THE NIGHT IN THE HOSPITAL."

Hana, who had been relatively calm up to now, jumped in fright and backed away from Vito. "What the hell is that supposed to be?" she demanded. In a harsh whisper, she said, "Are you taking drugs, Tsuna? I told you before that I don't approve you dealing in them, but to have the gall to inject them into your own body –"

Vito waved a hand to cut Hana off. "Of course I'm not taking any of the drugs I'm selling!" he said in his own hushed howl. "Besides, what kind of drugs do you think can make skull appear on my hand that spills out all of my deep, dark secrets?"

"Oh, I don't know, Vito," Hana responded sarcastically. "Maybe the same garbage that makes you strip yourself naked and go all 'with my dying will' all the time?"

The sound of a toy helicopter prompted Vito to glance upwards. It was a transformed Leon flying near the ceiling skylight. A moment later, Reborn was descending toward Vito with Leon acting as a parachute.

"Hana is on the right track," Reborn said as he landed on the top rail of a nearby chair. "It appears you are feeling the effects of Skullitis, also known as the Skull Disease. It manifests in a person after he or she has been shot in the head with the Dying Will Bullet ten times."

"Skull Disease?" repeated a confused Kyoko, who walked up from behind Vito alongside Takeshi. "What kind of symptoms does a sickness with a name like that have?"

"Small black skulls like the one on Tsuna's hand will show up on different parts of the infectee's body," Reborn explained. "Those skulls reveal your deepest secrets out loud."

Takeshi handed Vito a can of soda, which Vito started downing without any hesitation. "That sounds like an embarrassing disease to have," Takeshi said, "but I'm sure it's nothing some warm soup and a day sleeping in can't fix."

"The Skull Disease is incurable," Reborn added flatly. "After the skulls begin to manifest on the victim's body, he or she officially dies without any chance of resurrection after two hours."

Vito's jaw dropped. He stared at Reborn with wide eyes. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I CAN SPEAK FLUENT ITALIAN AND HAVE BEEN EAVESDROPPING ON REBORN'S PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS WITH BIANCHI AND HIS PHONE CALLS TO HIS CONTACTS IN ITALY."

An unnerving smile spread across Reborn's face. "Deadly serious," he answered.

Great. This is just fucking great. Vito burped obnoxiously loudly and plopped down on a chair. "How exactly am I supposed to be cured from this, then, Reborn? What good is another dead boss candidate?"

"I CHEAT WHEN I PLAY CARD GAMES. EVEN IN GO FISH."

Ryohei gasped. "Sawada?! You cheated all the times we've played Go Fish? That is impossibly unsportsmanlike, to the extreme! That means you would owe Kyoko and I even more money, too!"

"What does it matter if Tsuna cheated in some stupid game?" Haru cried out as she enveloped Vito in a hug. Vito was too dazed from getting all his secrets being revealed to resist. "You heard Reborn! He's dying! What are we going to do?"

Another skull appeared on Vito's wrist, right over a blood vessel. He pulled his sleeves up as Reborn said, "If No-Good Tsuna listened to the phone call I made the day before, then he should know that I made arrangements for a specialist from Italy to arrive today to treat his condition."

Gokudera, breaking out of a solemn stupor that had struck him after Reborn explained what the Skull Disease did, spoke up. "Reborn, the specialist wouldn't happen to be –"

"It is."

With a nod and a resolute expression on his face, Gokudera glanced at Hana. "You look the most mature," he said to himself. "If my sister is too uncompliant, you may do as an offering."

"Excuse me?" Hana said sharply.

An offering? Vito stood up shot a glare at Gokudera. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Gokudera respectfully bowed before Vito. "I meant no disrespect! Doctor Shamal is a skilled physician with unmatched knowledge in the fields of medicine, but –"

"But I don't treat men."

Kyoko, Haru, Hana, and Ryohei all yelped in surprised. They hopped behind Vito as a tall stranger in a white suit, a black dress shirt, a loose purple tie, and a hairdo resembling Gokudera's casually strolled before them.

"It's good to see you again, Hayato!" he greeted with a handwave.

Takeshi, not at all startled from the man's abrupt entrance, gave him a curious glance. "You know Gokudera, mister?"

The fat cat-looking guy nodded. "So, where's your sister, Hayato? It's been too long since she and I have gotten to spend any time together."

"Forget her, you idiot doctor!" Gokudera screeched. "Make yourself useful and go cure Tsunayoshi-sama!"

Vito raised one of his eyebrows. "This is the specialist?"

"This is Doctor Shamal," Reborn confirmed. "Now that I've brought him here, it is your job, Tsuna, to convince him to cure you."

Ah. There was the catch to today's adventure. Leave it to Reborn to turn a life-or-death situation into a tutoring lesson.

"I KEPT JOE'S SHIRT AFTER KILLING THE BASTARDS WHO BURNED DOWN MY HOUSE."

Shit. That was a secret no one who knew Tsuna Sawada would understand, and the strange looks surrounding bystanders and shop goers were giving him were starting to grow even more concerned than before.

"Tsuna?" Kyoko spoke up quietly, making Vito freeze in place. "What is that supposed to mean? When did your house –"

Shamal was suddenly in front of Kyoko. "Oh. You're a cute one. What's your name, sweetie?"

Vito's hand instinctively went for his switchblade when Shamal reached a hand toward Kyoko's cheek, but Takeshi was already putting himself between Kyoko and the doctor. "Hang on, now," Takeshi said goodheartedly. "The kid said that Tsuna's only got less than two hours to live. Maybe you should help him out before –"

"That's right!" Haru interrupted, pushing Takeshi aside to scream directly into Shamal's face. "Help Tsuna! Now! Don't let him die!"

"I ORDER PLAYBOY MAGAZINES FROM AMERICA AND GIVE THEM TO TAKESHI AND KUSAKABE."

Takeshi took a step back from everyone and ducked his head, trying to shroud his gigantically red face. Shamal burst out in laughter. "Do you, now?" he asked rhetorically as he turned to Vito. "How kind of you. I used to be a subscriber myself, but I prefer the real thing over pretty pictures." Shamal took one glance at Haru before turning toward Hana. "Speaking of which, I don't think we've had the pleasure of –"

"Take one step closer and I'm shooting you," Hana said plainly, her hand dug into her purse and most likely clutching the handgun Vito had given her a while back.

Shamal shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been through worse, but since the well seems a little dry here, I think I'll just take my leave."

Ryohei and Gokudera blocked Shamal's path as he tried to make his exit. "Not yet!" Ryohei insisted. "You must save Sawada before he dies of embarrassment! A man should die with pride, to the extreme, not with shame!"

Again, Shamal gave an uncaring shrug. "Like I said, I don't treat men."

"I SKIP SCHOOL WHEN THEY GIVE OUT SHOTS."

Shamal's face scrunched up in disgust. "You're not helping your case any."

Vito's hand was still gripping his knife. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he tried to relax. Shamal was supposed to be part of the mafia, right? He's no El Greco, but if he's got Reborn's favor to make the trip to Japan, then he ought to have some business sense that Vito can appeal to.

"I ACCIDENTALLY SET MAMI'S FAVORITE TEDDY BEAR ON FIRE AND PINNED THE BLAME ON ENMA."

"Hey, Doctor Shamal," Vito called out to him, doing his best to ignore the talking skulls steadily growing all over his body, "what's it gonna cost to make sure I don't die?"

"Nothing you have interests me," Shamal said snidely. "Unless you can somehow morph into a beautiful woman willing to give me a peck on the cheek, I won't be laying a single finger on you."

Ryohei, Gokudera, and Haru stood at the top of their toes and had their mouths wide open to scream again into Shamal's ears. Vito gave them light shoves to stop them and turned to face Shamal. "So, you're not in the market of getting the you-know-what family owing you a favor for saving their only good beneficiary left?" Vito questioned.

Giving Vito a sideways glance, Shamal scoffed. "If they were really that desperate, Reborn would have had paid me up front."

"It's not about desperation. It's about respect." Vito glanced at Reborn. The baby was nibbling on Vito's friggin' burger now. Cheeky. "You respect Reborn enough to come all the way out here. I'm asking you, respectfully, to throw me a bone. In exchange, I will owe you a favor. How does that sound?"

Shamal looked amused now as he met Vito's eyes. "How old are you? Thirteen?"

"Fourteen," Vito said through slightly gritted teeth.

"How can a poor fourteen-year-old child playing at being a Godfather do anything of significance to a man of my profession?" Shamal challenged.

"Right now? Not much," Vito granted. "Let's say somewhere down the line – five, ten, maybe twenty years later – you'll find yourself in a shitty situation and need someone to pull your ass out of the freezer." Like how Lincoln pulled Vito's ass out of his own freezer after Grecco fucked him up. "You'll find yourself cornered. It's just another crap day in a whole lifetime of crap days, but then you start thinking that this is the last crap day you'll ever have."

The good doctor's relaxed smirk started to flatten. He buried his hands into his pants pockets as he narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. It'll be my last day on earth because you'll make sure that it is."

"Nope," Vito corrected, letting the "p" sound pop. "It'll be your last crap day because I'll be making sure you get out of your shitty situation alive and well. You won't be having any more crap days after that because you'll be working with me. Why would I do that? Call it repaying you for saving my life all those years ago from a bad case of Skullitis."

Vito and Shamal held a stare-off. Vito felt fairly confident that his words had the right amount of killing intent and the right amount of good humor. He's done these kinds of deals a thousand times before when he was running River Row, and a thousand more times here in Namimori. This was the first time Vito was dealing with an honest-to-God mobster, however. With any luck, the age gap wouldn't deter Shamal any more than he would be convinced by Vito's sales pitch.

Finally, Shamal chuckled and turned to Reborn. "What a cute little student you have here, Reborn. I think he'll go farther than the Chiavarone brat, when he gets to his age."

"He will," Reborn affirmed.

"And you've even got Hayato running around in your little gang," Shamal added as he faced Vito. Shamal looked not at all affected by more shouting that came from Gokudera. "Alright. I suppose I'll break my no-men rule, just this one time. In exchange, you and your family will owe me a favor. Agreed?"

Vito matched Shamal's smirk, "Agreed."

"I FAINT IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE AT SCHOOL EVERY HALLOWEEN."

Thankfully, Vito was cured of the skull disease within seconds. He didn't care much for how Shamal cured him as much as Vito cared about not having to die in two hours.

Haru tackled Vito with another hug. "You're still alive, Tsuna!" she cheerfully proclaimed. Ryohei and Gokudera said something along the same lines, except more excitedly and extremely. Takeshi, Hana, and Kyoko gave more mellowed, half-confused congratulations.

"Now, about that favor," Shamal said as stole Hayato's tray of food and started sipping on his soda, "Setting me up on a date with the beautiful Bianchi would be acceptable payment for my services."

Vito gave Shamal a strange look. He was using up his favor to get a date? "I'm pretty sure Bianchi's dating Reborn," Vito remarked.

"No, she is not," Reborn interjected. "She is merely an ex-lover whom I have remained friends with. She is free to date whomever she desires."

"Okay, then." Vito picked up a pair of chopsticks and pointed them at his silver-haired fanboy. "Gokudera, this is on you. Get it done."

Gokudera sputtered incoherently and gulped. Vito thought he was going to object, but then Gokudera shouted an affirmative to "fulfill Tsunayoshi's will" and ran off, presumably to figure out a way to get Bianchi to go on Shamal's date.

Shamal laughed for a short bit. "I have to say that you've done a great job tutoring this kid, Reborn," he said between snickers. "He's going to be an interesting one, once he becomes boss."

Damn straight. Vito was going to be a helluva boss one day.

X

After too many minutes of getting the kids to tire out and go to sleep, Vito let his body drop onto the kitchen couch.

"Why do you have a couch in your kitchen?" Bianchi, washing plates at the sink, asked offhandedly as she chewed on a piece of poppy.

Because Vito wanted to honor Joe's memory in some, subtle way in this new life. "Because whenever Reborn commandeers my room, when Fuuta starts levitating stuff in the backyard, when Lambo and I-Pin are running rampant around house, and when you start watching your soap operas in the living room, I need a place for myself." Thank God the kids avoided the kitchen like the plague ever since Vito did contract the plague after accidentally taking a bite from one of Bianchi's poison cooking dishes. Seeing Vito so sick and disheveled was enough to make them paranoid of eating anything in the house that wasn't brought in from outside or personally cooked by Vito.

"You should be doing something more constructive with your day instead of lazing about," Bianchi suggested curtly.

"I call it unwinding after a stressful day," Vito replied. He didn't respond to anything else Bianchi threw at him. The less said about yesterday's impromptu camping trip, the better.

Vito must have fallen asleep after Bianchi walked out of the kitchen to watch her mid-day shows. The next thing Vito knew, he was being jostled awake by someone shaking his arm. Pretending to still be asleep, Vito rolled over to bury himself deeper into the couch. He drowsily wrenched his arm free and turned his back to whoever was shaking him.

"Tsuna," whispered a hushed, slow voice. Vito flipped his head around and snapped his eyes open.

"You're finally back," Vito said in a bemused voice.

Nana nodded with a gentle smile gracing her face. "Yes, I am. Have you been okay with me out of the house for so long?"

"It's been three months," Vito stated. Three months since the day Reborn walked into his life, and three months since Vito practically spat into Nana's face about her not being his real mother.

Nana nodded again. "I had a lot to talk about with your father. We have a lot to talk about, too, Tsuna." She gestured to the dining room table. Vito stood up and took a seat across from her.

"What did you and Iemitsu talk about?" Vito asked to start the conversation.

"You, of course," Nana said softly. "After you started to get involved with Namimori's gangs, we had agreed to never let you in as an official member of the Vongola Family. Imagine my surprise when Reborn comes to our home during the dead of night and tells me that you are going to be heading the family."

Yeah, Vito could imagine. "Were you trying to convince Iemitsu to take up the mantle as Decimo instead?"

"Yes," Nana verified. "I talked with him, to his boss, his coworkers, to the Cavallone boy, just trying to find some loophole where you can live your life without having to follow the whims of the Vongola...." She leaned closer across the table so that Vito's eyes were drawn to her own. "He is your father. You are my son. We are supposed to make sure you aren't put in needless danger, not put you in a position where so many, many people will want to hurt you."

Vito wasn't bothered by being the target of potential sadists, rivals, and killers if it meant more power, money, and respect for him. "I'm willing to take the risk," he said lowly. Thinking on his next words, he also said, "You said you and my father sacrificed a lot to live as good as we do. Anything good in life is going to need sacrifice. I'm ready to pay my dues, just like the both of you. If it means that we all live better lives for it, it's a price worth paying."

Vito's ambitions mostly came from his failures from his past life. Since Vito didn't want to talk about that stuff, he's trying to get Nana to think some of his thought process is being built directly from some of their previous conversations. That way, Nana can really tell that Vito is speaking honestly. Some of the details are shoddy, but the intent is true and real.

"How have you been handling your new responsibilities?" Nana asked after a few voiceless moments of solemn, sad staring. "I've been talking with Reborn through phone calls. You've gotten yourself new friends and new roommates."

Shrugging, Vito answered, "They can be a pain in the neck sometimes, especially the kids, but..." But Vito found himself liking them. A lot, actually. Most of Vito Scaletta's friends and associates were only friends and associates because of necessity or purely from a business standpoint. Here, where Vito has essentially grown up with Takeshi, Kyoko, and Hana, and has been looking after Fuuta, I-Pin, and Lambo for a while now, it wasn't all about business. Vito didn't have to always think about "how much can you help me" with his family here in Namimori. They were simply family, just like Enma and Mami, and that was all that there was to it.

Vito hasn't had any relationship like that with anyone since Joe.

"But you love them," Nana finished Vito's sentence with a knowing smile. "Reborn has told me all about how you care for them. When you're cooking the kids some of your favorite Italian dishes or spending a late night out with your friends at the arcade, you feel comfortably at peace. Isn't that right?"

At peace? Ha. As if Reborn's allowed any of opportunity for Vito to be at peace when...

No. Nana was actually right. Between the day-to-day annoyances of micromanaging the kids at home and the crew at Kawahira's, just spending time and talking with them about random shit did wonders for his mental constitution when Reborn inevitably came rolling in with the daily ass-kicking.

Vito has half the territory and manpower as he did when he was at his highest in New Bordeaux, but he has ten times the amount of people he could call family. If Vito was given the chance to go back to his old life, working with Lincoln Clay and the other assholes to take over Sal Marcano's private empire, there was no way in hell that he'd take that deal.

"I told you that I only want you to have a good, safe life, Vito," Nana continued, prompting Vito to perk up at the mention of his true name. "If I can't guarantee you a safe life, then I want you to at least live a proud, content life. Can you promise me that, at least?"

Yes. Yes, he most certainly can. "I promise," Vito said. He got out of his seat and wrapped his mother in a hug. She returned it without hesitation. "I'm glad that you're home."

"So am I."

"I'm sorry for what I said the night before you left for Italy. I was rude, it was uncalled for, and –"

"You're still a child, Vito."

Well, he really wasn't.

"You may think you're ready to overcome anything in your way, but you're still a child. My child. Please, don't try to grow up too fast. Take your time. Your friends and I will help you get to where you want to be. Alright?"

"Alright." God, now Vito really did feel like a stupid kid again. Vito took a step back, letting his mother go. "Thank you, mama."

Mama smiled sweetly. She glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. "It's almost dinner time. I haven't met our new house mates yet. Can you bring them over while I prepare the food?"

Vito shook his head. "I'll get the others, but let me cook tonight. I've been working on my gumbo recipe, and I want you to be the first to try the new version."

Mama ruffled Vito's hair in a way that Vito would only let his mother do. "I'm honored," she teased.

If Iemitsu had come home to hash things out, too, then this evening would have been perfect.

X

"Hey, Reborn," Vito called from where he was absently taking vague notes from his science textbook, "is there a reason that whenever I go into Dying Will mode that I don't remember anything?"

Reborn was reading the morning newspaper and didn't look up when Vito spoke. "What do you mean?" Reborn asked.

"I never know what I'm doing when you shoot me. I get shot, things go black, and then I wake up naked." Vito sent down his papers and glanced at Reborn. "Things are always going to get personal in the mob business, but at the end of the day, it's a business. I can't always go the Dying Will route and act just on whatever my feelings are before I die."

"As I said, you will learn to consciously use your flames as your body adjusts and gets accustomed to utilizing your dying will."

It made sense, as if anything coming out of the mouth of a hitman baby made sense, but Vito wasn't convinced. "I feel like there's something more to it, though. My body's gone through that whole skull disease thing. Most of my 'deep, dark' secrets have been outed, so I'd think my resolve would be more hardened now, or more tangible, or something like that. Shouldn't this be the point where I can at least consciously decide what I'm gonna stake my dying will on?"

To Vito's surprise, Reborn set down his paper and looked to his student. "You're not wrong. If not able to consciously line out your dying will, you should be able to at least change your methodology in fulfilling your dying will by now."

"Methodology?"

"For example, you may have declared to want to save a cat from a tree. Once your body has adjusted, while in your Dying Will Mode, you can change tactics from climbing up the tree to directly hopping onto an elevated tree branch. If you're trying to save someone from a burning building, you can consciously decide between going inside and looking for the person or dousing all of the flames yourself however you choose."

Huh. That's not quite as useful as deciding what Vito's dying wish should be, but it was useful nonetheless. "Then why don't I have control over that stuff yet?"

In what Vito has to guess was a brief moment of contemplative indecision on Reborn's part, the baby stood up on his tiny two feet and regarded Vito with a serious expression. "What I am about to tell you, you shall tell no one else. Not to your friends, and especially not to your mother. Make no interruptions or ask any questions until I give you permission. Do I make myself clear?"

Reborn's never subtly threatened Vito's family like this before. Suspicious but eager for answers, Vito accepted Reborn's conditions.

"When you were young," Reborn began, "at the request of Iemitsu, the Vongola Nono placed a seal on you meant to suppress your Dying Will Flames. Without the ability to access your flames, the likelihood of you being drawn to the world of the mafia would decrease exponentially."

A seal? Was that the cause of Vito's dreams and flashbacks in those days after his sixth birthday? Those dreams were what led him to get back in the criminal life in this lifetime in the first place.

"The Dying Will Bullet temporarily renders the seal null and void," Reborn went on. "However, it seems that your body is capable of leaking out your flames whenever you strengthen your resolve. I assume that after the Flood of Blood incident with the Simon Family, you felt an intense need to protect yourself and your family, thus drawing out the Sky Flames in your blood."

Vito was about to ask, "So the seal's shoddy workmanship?" Then he bit his tongue. He promised not to interrupt Reborn, so he wasn't going to say a thing until given his cue.

Regardless, Reborn said, "I can see your confusion. I have talked with Nono about the matter. Either he created a defective seal in his slowly ailing, old age, or your body is naturally in tune with your Sky Flames. Even individuals with low flame output can compensate if they have Sky Flames, which are more potent and higher in density than other flames, especially with their Harmonization ability. As such, even the strongest of seals placed on Sky Flame users are susceptible to being bypassed. I have come to the conclusion that your loss of memory is a side effect of your body balancing out the seal's effects and your natural connection to your flames."

Shit. Vito was starting to get another headache about this Sky Flame talk. Fortunately, Reborn prodded and asked, "Any questions so far?"

"Why hasn't the seal been removed yet if its causing side effects like memory loss?"

"The Vongola Nono has not sanctioned it," Reborn said. "In time, your sky flames should be able to erase your seal entirely and naturally. Nono wants to continue to monitor your behavior with your status as the Decimo candidate. If your progress is to Nono's liking, he has promised to officially remove your seal. Until then, it is up to you to deal with the seal's effects and defects however you please."

Ah. So, that's how it is. Vito has to learn how to play ball before Nono is willing to let him try batting. Well, Vito has gone this far swinging without an old coot coaching him. If Vito can get past the memory problems naturally, then he'll just do it that way. Nono hasn't even given Vito the courtesy of meeting him personally yet after Vito got the Decimo title, so Vito didn't have a lot of motivation to try to live up to the old man's expectations. Besides, once Nono's out of the picture, then it'll be Vito's show to run.

"Sounds like a shitty deal," Vito commented, "but I've done pretty good so far. Right?"

"I suppose," Reborn allowed. "Your grades have improved, relations with the Disciplinary Committee have gotten better, your family members remain trusting and loyal, and you are finally treating your mother as if she really is your mother. You have made much progress since we first met."

Vito rolled his eyes. Swiveling around on his chair, he turned back to his homework. "I told you that you were going to be surprised at what I'm made of. You surprised yet?"

"Of course not," Reborn said as he went back to his newspaper. "I have already said that I will make you a great mafia boss. No matter what happens, in my honest and professional tutoring opinion, I am confident you will become worthy Vongola Decimo. Never forget that."

Looking over his notes, Vito felt a smirk broaden across his cheeks. He had a feeling Reborn was smirking, too.

It was only a matter of time.

 


	6. You Picked the Wrong Ass to Drill

Vito hollered an adrenaline-fueled battle cry as he tackled the slanty-eyed freak that was the real Mukuro Rokudo out of a broken window.

Mukuro's body hit the ground first. Vito rolled off him and dodged under a wide weave from Mukuro's trident. As Mukuro swung again, Vito took a gamble and stepped forward, grabbing the trident in an attempt to disarm the blue-haired psychopath. Vito kept Mukuro pinned to the floor by planting a foot on his chest, but as Mukuro resisted, the trident's blades repeatedly wisped through the air in front Vito's face.

"You might as well surrender now, Tsunayoshi Sawada," Mukuro said. "Delaying the inevitable is –"

A stomp to Mukuro's throat helped quiet him down some.

Unfortunately, delivering the stomp costed Vito some of his balance. Mukuro managed to kick Vito off him. Vito nearly had a stroke when he saw the glint of the sun reflect off the trident's bladed edge and nearly blind him. For a second, Vito thought Mukuro got in a good cut along Vito's temple. Thankfully, Vito only felt strands of his spiky hair get cut off. On the other hand, Mukuro was back on his feet and holding the pointy end of his weapon directly for Vito's head.

God, Vito wished he still had his gun. It had taken care of the other faceless Kokuyo gang mooks that were going after Kusakabe and Vito's capos easy enough. Then Reborn "confiscated" the gun to let Vito's "guardian candidates" fight Mukuro's lieutenants. If the Vongola Nono hadn't put any bullshit parameters around how Vito was allowed to take out Mukuro, this entire turf war would've ended hours ago.

Maybe Vito wouldn't have had to choke Fuuta until he fell unconscious just so that the kid wouldn't slit his own throat like Mukuro threatened to make him do. Maybe Fuuta wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place.

Maybe Vito wouldn't have been forced to put Gokudera and his sister to sleep, too. Takeshi was knocked out early during their incursion into Kokuyo Land, so he lucked out of getting possessed. Mukuro's two right-hand men weren't much trouble either after Vito sliced their kneecaps and bludgeoned the yo-yo guy's face with a rusty hammer. Thank God Hibari's body was too battered to be worth possessing at all, or Vito would have probably set the entire amusement park on fire just to try getting rid of him over anything else.

Looking around for anything to use as a makeshift weapon, Vito picked up a bar of rebar with a contorted block of concrete stuck on one end. He held it up and made taunting motions with it toward Mukuro.

"Why must we continue to play this silly game?" Mukuro questioned with his creepy-ass smile. "I've already won."

Vito scoffed. "You wanna rethink that?"

"Kufufufu," Mukuro muttered, making Vito want to step up and break his fucking neck.

Vito didn't get any further than the first step. He stopped abruptly when he felt something wet start to slide down the side of his forehead. Vito placed a hand on his temple and touched a sliver of blood seeping out of a thin cut on his skin.

"Just like other mafiosos," Mukuro said smugly, "your delusions of power and strength blind you to the reality of the situation. You are nothing, Tsunayoshi Sawada. With your body strung along by my strings, the rest of the mafia are soon to follow in your footsteps."

Fuck. Fucking cocksucker did nick Vito during that struggle earlier. If Vito had been just a little fucking faster, paid a little more attention, then he would'a –

"Vito," said a strict, elderly voice that made Vito's heart stop.

A slew of Italian words was whispered into Vito's ear. Vito wasn't standing in the middle of a rundown dirt road surrounded by Kokuyo Land's dilapidated buildings and infrastructure any more. He was in a church, the same one in Empire Bay the Scaletta family often went to when he was growing up. The place was lit by candles and chandelier lights. A slight draft of cold winter air made Vito's shoulders shudder. It was a bit crowded, too, with the mutterings and noises of side conversations resonating throughout the building.

Vito remembered this day. It was a couple of days after Vito got back from the war. Frankie had gotten sick, so she was staying at Eric's place for a few nights. She called up Vito to watch after Mama while she was recovering, and Mama brought Vito to the church.

Wearing his dad's old cheap suit that was two sizes too small, Vito was standing in front of the confessional and waiting his turn. Was this what people who Mukuro possesses go through? Experience old memories?

A headache started to beat against Vito's skull. He winced and placed the back of his hand along his head.

Who was Mukuro again? What kind of name was Mukuro anyway? Was that even a name?

The door to the confessional opened up. Vito was greeted by the sight of a cute girl who had an adorable blush on her face. She was wearing what Vito's brain identified as a green school uniform, though not one with a design he was really familiar with. Glancing at her short purple hair that vaguely resembled the shape of a pineapple brought back the head pains. So, Vito found himself drawn to the girl's eyes.

Well, to her one good eye. It was a captivating violet color that Vito couldn't look away from. Her other eye, the right one, was covered with an eyepatch.

The girl didn't say anything as she stared back at Vito. She seemed to recollect herself with a shiver. Looking to her feet, she averted her eyes. Vito watched her backside as she briskly strolled away.

Then Vito felt someone smack a hand on his ass. "Vito," Mama berated sternly in disapproval. "Go."

"Alright, alright," Vito said hurriedly as he entered the confessional. "Jesus Christ." He heard some folks gasp from behind him as he shut the door. Vito smiled in amusement just a little bit as he took his seat.

With a sigh, Vito peeked through the small lattice opening between the separated confessional stalls. It was too dark for Vito to see much of anything, though there was a weird emblem placed on the lattice wall. Something resembling a bullet was placed in the middle of a shield. Two shotguns crossed over each other's barrels above the shield, and above them was a clam sprouting wings.

It was an odd thing, but since Vito began to feel another headache starting to linger, he ignored the emblem. To start things off properly, Vito said, "Bless me, father, for I have –"

"HIEEEEEE!"

"… for I have sinned." That was the strangest greeting that Vito's ever gotten from a priest. Or from anyone, really.

"Why are you here?" asked the priest, sounding frightened. Was it even really a priest on the other side of that wall? He sounded way too young. "How are you here? How are we talking? Why are we talking? Why are we in a church? Did Reborn somehow send you here? Or was it Mukuro? Are you dead? What are you doing here?"

"… to confess," Vito deadpanned. "Can we hurry this up? I've got a meeting to get to soon." Once Vito made sure Mama got home safely, he's supposed to meet up with Joe for another job opportunity. Hopefully, the payout will be enough to settle the last of the debt Vito's dad left behind. "Like I said, forgive me, for I have sinned."

There was a pause. This must be some new rookie priest-in-training or something like that. Vito was tempted to check his watch for the time when the priest said, "I know you have."

Something about the way the priest said that made Vito nervously shuffle his feet. "How would you know anything about me?" Vito asked. He sure as hell didn't recognize him. Pretty sure.

"I know a lot," said the shaky voice. "You've done a lot of really scary things. Stealing, killing... Did you really have to hurt that Grecco person?"

Grecco thought that he had had the fucking balls to break Vito, but he was piss-poor torturer and a terrible shit talker. "That asshole got what he deserved," Vito barked.

Wait a second. The year was supposed to be 1945 right now. Vito hadn't met Grecco until the sixties. Mama had long since passed away when Vito offed Grecco. How did Vito know about...? How did the priest know who...?

"He hurt you," the priest said ambivalently, "and your soldiers, your friends, but would your friends have wanted you to torture him like you did?"

"I'd have given them the chance to off him themselves," Vito found himself saying. "You're right. Grecco killed them. They deserved a little payback."

"Uh... I guess that's the big thing that isn't so scary about you," the voice tentatively admitted.

"And what's that supposed to be?"

"Your reasons for doing all of the bad things you've done," answered the voice. "It wasn't always about violence for the sake of violence. You did what you did for the people you cared about. For your family."

At the mention of family, Vito instantly felt defensive and clenched his fists. The last priest to lecture him about family was Lincoln's pal Father James. It wasn't as pleasant a conversation as either of them had hoped it would be.

"You didn't want Henry's death to go unpunished. That's why you went after the Triads," the voice went on. "You didn't want Leo die because of some stupid criminal politics. That's why you tried to save him. You wanted a better life for your mom and Francesca, and you wanted to watch Joe's back in the same way he's watched yours."

Who the fuck was this guy supposed to be, saying Joe's name?

But fuck it all if this guy's words didn't make Vito's life flash before his eyes and make him less tense and more... subdued, is what Vito would call how he was feeling now. Vito's fists unclenched as he ran his fingers through his sweaty hair.

"You had good reasons," the priest said, "but I think you took a few steps too far at times. All the lying, the stealing, bullying, killing –"

"I know I've done a lot of bad back then," Vito interrupted the shuddering faceless voice. "You don't need to tell me about any of that. Like I said, I've sinned."

"Do you regret it? The sins, I mean?"

Vito took a quick second to pick his answer. "Some of it," he allowed. "Some of it never needed to happen, but if I hadn't gone through what I did, I wouldn't be where I am today."

"But," the voice said in a confused tone, "you're doing the same things as you did before. You're still a criminal. You still kill people."

Well, not technically. Tsuna Sawada is only guilty of conspiracy to murder, not outright personally carrying out murder. "I've killed for my country," Vito said, "I've killed for my family, and I killed anyone who got in my way. Now, I don't kill as much as before. I order hits on people, which is probably just as bad, but I'm not the triggerman anymore. I'm the boss. I'm not offing people and hurting people because someone's telling me to. Now, I'm the one who makes the call on who lives and who dies."

Vito stared into the dark void that lay behind the lattice opening. "It's the killing part that really bothers you, doesn't it?" Vito didn't know how the voice knew so much about him, but for whatever reason, it was almost a two-way street. Vito could practically feel a well of nervousness and self-doubt oozing out on the other side of the confessional. "Stealing, you can handle. The bullying, anyone can understand that easy enough. Some people can't be reasoned with without a little intimidation factored in." Case in point: Hibari. "But the killing – having someone's life in your hands and ending it – that's what really scares you."

There was a silence that lasted a long time as Vito waited for the voice to reply back. "There's a lot a person should be able to do if it means protecting his family," the voice finally said. "I don't know if killing is one of those things."

Bullshit. "If Makoto didn't kill Magi's murderer, he'd be dead. Enma and Mami would be dead, too." Even though the confessional was a bit cramped, Vito stood up and faced the voice. "Those twin gimp freaks on Mukuro's payroll would have murdered Kyoko and Haru without a second thought if the older Lambo and I-Pin didn't get to them first. When someone comes after you and your own packing the kind of firepower that makes you sweat under the collar, you don't hesitate. It's either you or them."

"You don't have to stoop to their level, though," the voice said weakly. "You can find another way."

Vito scoffed. "Mukuro almost killed Fuuta. A ten-year-old boy. Closest thing I have to a real little brother next to Enma." No offense to Lambo, but he was an annoying brat half the time. During the other half, he was a smug teen who constantly wore a punchable shit-eating grin. The Vito in the future must have spoiled him too much. "Mukuro's also threatened to kill my mother, by using my own body. If you don't do your hardest to fight back against a man like that, then what the fuck does family mean to you?"

Who the fuck was even this disembodied voice anyhow? Vito felt like he knew who it was. His name was just somewhere on the tip of his tongue, but Vito's got more important things to handle first. Like kicking Mukuro's ass.

Vito tried opening the confessional to leave, but the doorknob wouldn't budge. Knocking his whole body against the whole door didn't help much either. Vito felt around the small room for something that would help him get out of this – this –

"Am I stuck in an illusion?" Vito questioned aloud. "How the fuck do I get out of here?"

The voice sighed. "I was wish I was more like you," he said. "I wish I could help our family in a more direct way like you can. They don't even know that I'm here."

Pausing in his frantic search for an exit, Vito turned to the voice. "Who are you?" Vito demanded.

From the depths of the dark, Vito was suddenly staring back at a pair of orange eyes. "I can help you in one way, at least," the voice said, no longer wavering and now sounding confident and resolute. The odd emblem on the lattice suddenly burst into flames, and suddenly the entire confessional was on fire.

Normally, Vito would be frantically trying to pat down the flames that got caught on his clothes. Instead, he simply let the fire consume him. It didn't hurt him in the slightest.

"Let's fight with our dying will," the voice declared.

Vito blinked. Opening his eyes, he found himself back in Kokuyo Land. All of the stress he was feeling from before – the rage, the adrenaline, the shock and fear – it was all gone. The slight stinging from the cut on his temple was also gone, replaced by soft, cool sensation that fluttered along his forehead.

Straight across from Vito, Mukuro was clutching his skull, pulling at his hair, and screaming his head off. One hand covered his right eye and seemed to be digging into the skin around it.

Mukuro's screams morphed into panting for air. Then it became his signature "kufufufu" chuckle. A hand still placed over his eye, Mukuro said, "The Estraneo Family would have loved getting their scalpels and syringes on you, Tsunayoshi Sawada."

While Vito kept his eyes squarely on Mukuro, he did catch Reborn standing atop an old wooden post. "You broke free of the possession, Tsuna, all on your own," Reborn stated as he tipped the brim of his hat upward. "Do you care to explain how you did that? Your dying will is strong, but to independently activate your Hyper Dying Will Mode immediately after breaking free of possession –"

"Of course, it would be strong enough," Mukuro cut in, smiling despicably at Vito. "Your Vongola blood alone wouldn't be enough with how young you are, but you are not truly as young as you look. You are like me, possessing a reincarnated spirit."

Reborn's eyes perked up. "Reincarnated?"

Vito felt his head nod. "I've died once already," he found himself saying. "Not with the Dying Will Bullet. With an actual bullet, in another life."

"And you have been born again in this life," Mukuro said. "Tsunayoshi Sawada – no. Vittorio Scaletta. Your previous life is hardly anything that could compare to the Six Paths of Reincarnation, but experiencing a true rebirth while retaining all your past memories as you did is a rarity. It grants you certain abilities, including an immunity to outside forces possessing the body you are currently inhabiting."

Certain abilities, huh? Vito guessed that the Vongola Nono's seal might be affecting those abilities if it took a second for the immunity against possession to kick in.

Reborn was wearing an unbreakable poker face. "After you defeat Mukuro," he said plainly, which might as well have been dangerously since it was Reborn they were talking about here, "we will be discussing your reincarnated status in depth, Tsuna."

Mukuro barked a laugh. "You overestimate your student, Arcobaleno. A veteran of the mafia he may be, Vittorio Scaletta is still no match for my abilities." Mukuro tightened his grip on his eye, causing blood to splatter outward. Removing his hand, a new kanji appeared on his apparently undamaged eye. With a black aura pulsating around him, Mukuro held his trident at the ready. "Your fighting aura is pitiful in comparison to my own."

Mukuro lunged forward. Faster than Vito thought he could move, Vito sidestepped the attack and kicked Mukuro's backside, sending him flying, all in one swift and smooth movement.

However, when Mukuro's body made contact with the spiky part of a cracked park bench, he dissipated into a smoky indigo mist. Another illusion. Vito tilted his head to avoid the thrust of the trident that came from behind him. Simultaneously, Vito elbowed Mukuro's gut and grabbed the trident. He slugged Mukuro over his shoulder and through the doorway of a roofless shed. Vito took a step forward and had to take a knee as he ducked under the wide shed door that was quickly thrown his way.

As Vito stood up again, Mukuro was gunning straight for him with the trident aimed for his leg. Well, the bladed edges actually looked like they were aimed for Vito's arm, but Vito felt the compulsion to raise his leg instead of getting his arm away from cutting distance. With the trident missing its mark and now directly below Vito's foot, he stomped down and cut off the blades from the shaft.

Vito clasped his hands together and raised them up high, ready to break Mukuro's skull. Unfortunately, Mukuro used the other end of his stick to block Vito's attack. He used the splintered end to pierce the side of Vito's abdomen. Mukuro drew blood, but Vito worked through the pain and bounced backwards to get some breathing room.

Silently and steadily, Vito took in deep breaths of air through his nostrils while keeping up his deep frown and narrowed eyes. He also pressed a hand against his side, trying to put pressure on his injury. Mukuro had some nicks and bruises, along with a bloody face from when he crushed his eye, but otherwise, he hardly looked winded or fatigued by much at all.

"You cannot possibly," Mukuro began tauntingly when a bright green light began to emanate near Reborn.

"Leon?" Vito whispered under his breath. The chameleon was out of commission for a while ever since he went into a metamorphosis/hibernation state, or something to that effect.

"It's the same as it was back then," Reborn remarked nostalgically with a small smile. "The time when Dino became the Bucking Horse."

Without hesitation, Mukuro picked up his fallen blades and sliced the ball of Leon in half.

Leon plopped to the floor in a sticky puddle of goo. Vito wasn't very worried about him. Leon has taken the shape of weirder things before. What caught Vito's eye was what was ejected out of Reborn's animal partner.

Landing beside Reborn was a small, chubby bulldog in white and brownish-amber fur. Hanging from his mouth was a pair of wool mittens.

"How cute," Mukuro commented as he gave the dog a funny look. "You believe that a newborn pup and cheap gloves can save you, Vittorio Scaletta?"

The pup in question looked older than his time. He had a wrinkly face, sunken eyeballs, and fur atop his head that was distinctly slicked back. The thousand-yard-stare the bulldog was giving gave Vito a good feeling and a welcome boost in confidence.

In a flicker of movement, the bulldog leapt over Mukuro's head and settled on Vito's shoulder, opposite the one that Reborn usually resided on. The dog rubbed his face against Vito's and held up the mittens by his teeth expectantly.

Vito put on the mitts. In a brief spark of even more orange fire, the mittens transformed into black, metal-clad gloves. Vito stretched out his fingers as he let himself become accustomed to his new gear.

So, Dino gets a whip and a turtle, and Vito gets gloves and a bulldog. At least Leon's gifts for Vito were things he had a pretty good idea on how to make good use of.

"I think I'll call you Brasi," Vito told the bulldog. The name just felt right to Vito. The nod and the growl the dog responded with was all the approval he needed.

"Enjoy your new pet while you still can," Mukuro goaded. He was holding his trident's blades and its detached long handle. In a blast of black and indigo fire, Mukuro's weapon was repaired. Probably another illusion, Vito mused.

With a maniacal smile, Mukuro ran forward. Brasi sprung off Vito's person as Vito caught the trident with his gloved hands. Vito stood his ground as he was pushed back, the soles of his shoes sliding against the concrete floor.

As Mukuro tried sneaking in an uppercut from under Vito's line of sight, Vito caught the fist with his palm. Without warning, Vito's gloved hands were set ablaze in orange flames as well.

Gasping in pain, Mukuro jumped back. "Your battle aura," he said with a disgruntled snarl. "How is it emitting heat?"

Reborn began an explanation about the density of flames. Not in the mood for more flame talk, Vito let the fire in his hands grow larger. Following his instincts, he let the burst of energy from his gloves propel him toward Mukuro.

While following his instincts was working well for Vito so far, the plan finally failed him as Vito made contact with nothing but air. The Mukuro he was targeting was another illusion. Expecting another attack to come from the anywhere, Vito kept flying forward. He rotated his body in mid-air as he flew, surrounding himself with flames to prevent Mukuro from popping out of nowhere and getting in another stab at Vito.

That plan also ultimately failed. When Vito stopped flying and was on his feet again, he felt a sharp pain explode along his backside. The fucking trident nicked him again. Vito struck his leg out to hit Mukuro. The illusionist swerved around Vito's limb and got Vito good in the face with the trident's blunt end.

"This is actually better than I had hoped," Mukuro said offhandedly as he and Vito continued to exchange blows. "Your reputation for reliable business sense would have made gathering the resources to cause conflict within the mafia child's play, but with your raw power alone, I can craft a pure and beautiful sea of blood directly from your own hands."

Vito grimaced as he got another cut across his knees. He returned the favor by breaking the bone in Mukuro's upper arm. "That's what your end goal is?" Vito questioned. "Wanton and indiscriminate destruction?"

"Not indiscriminate," Mukuro corrected. "The destruction of all organized crime syndicates on this planet. Total annihilation of the mafia. Then, in the flood of blood, my will shall dominate what is left of the world."

After a struggle of interlocked limbs, evil and sadistic monologuing from Mukuro, and incessant and fruitless punching on Vito's part, the two combatants jumped off each other. They landed a good few meters away from one another.

Staring intently at Mukuro for any tells of what his next move might be, Vito's eyes happened to trail and find Brasi kneeling next beside Vito. The bulldog barked a few times, as if Vito could understand a single thing coming out of its mouth.

Now, Vito was no dog whisperer, or a whisperer of any kind to any animal, but as odd as it was, Vito did get an idea at what Brasi was trying to get across. If Leon can change his shape to be anything he wants, and if Enzo can alter his size, too, then maybe…

Mukuro lunged again for Vito. Brasi's entire body shifted from hair, flesh, and bones to pure amber flames. The fiery blaze moved along the ground, up Vito's side, and down Vito's arm. In his right hand, the amber-orange flames morphed over each other. Now in his gloved hand was a replica of Vito's old .45 1911 Special, fitted with a nickel finish, specialized grip, and an extended mag.

Vito aimed and fired, again and again. By the time Mukuro reached Vito, the pineapple-haired freak was being pulled by his own momentum as he flung himself past Vito and onto the floor. As he slid along pebbles, sticks, and rubble, he left a trail of blood from the various burning bullet holes Vito's gun had left on his body.

"If anyone's will is going to dominate this world," Vito said as he turned to face Mukuro while keeping Brasi trained on him, "it's going to be mine."

Mukuro coughed weakly. Vito was surprised. He would have expected to hear more of that "kufufu" shtick. Since Mukuro didn't go that way, Vito became immensely suspicious and switched his aim from Mukuro heart to straight for his head.

"Kill me," Mukuro pleaded. Vito didn't believe for a second that Mukuro was legitimately afraid. "If I were to be caught by you mafia... I would rather –"

Vito shifted his aim again and shot the backs of Mukuro's knees. For good measure, Vito shot his arms, feet, spine, and shoulders, too. With each scream Mukuro blurted out, Vito was reminded of Carlo Falcone's last moments. If Mukuro didn't bleed out outright, it was going to take a miracle for Mukuro to be able to breath clearly and walk without supports ever again. "Give me one good reason why I should put you out of your misery," Vito dared, "and spare you from the retribution every mob family wants to put out on you."

Finally came the signature laugh. "Kufufu," Mukuro murmured, sounding and appearing legitimately weak now. "Of course you won't show me mercy. That is the way of the mafia. In your old world, and in this one."

Mercy. Fucked up thing in the mafia was that capping someone with a bullet to the head could count as mercy. "It's not about mercy," Vito said. "The Estraneo Family fucked with your life. I can understand you killing them in return, but there's no honor in destroying every single family out there just because you had a fucked-up upbringing."

Mukuro coughed a bloody scoff. "Honor? You are no 'man of honor' as you perceive yourself to be, Vittorio Scaletta. Honor is a fool's errand."

"Bullshit it is," Vito spat back. "Honor is what separates the men from the animals." As much as Vito hated Leo Galante, the old man had had enough honor to let Vito live after everything with Falcone and the Tongs. Not enough honor or the balls to save Joe, but it was something. "I was honorable enough to accept your offer for a sit-down to talk on a ceasefire between my crew and the Kokuyo Gang, but then you went behind my back and fucking kidnapped my little brother. You know something, Mukuro? You talk a lotta shit about suffering and power and blood, but from where I'm standing, you're just a rabid dog lashing out and just begging to be put down."

"Kufufufufu... You know nothing, Vittorio Scaletta. I know everything I need to know about you after walking through your memories, but you have no significant insight concerning myself. Save your breath."

Nah, Vito still had some air to spare. "A wise man once said, 'These are people who wander through the world shouting, "Kill me." And there's always somebody ready to oblige.'" For dramatic effect, Vito played with the hammer of gun, letting the classic cocking sound effect be one of the last things Mukuro would hear. "It didn't have to be me, but I'm ready to oblige."

Vito pulled the trigger.

The bullet rebounded off a long, black chain. The chain appeared suddenly and swiftly enveloped around Mukuro, completely trapping his entire body.

A tall man with a wide top hat, a thick overcoat, and a face thoroughly covered up in white bandages was standing a little ways away. The man started to drag Mukuro's body away.

Reborn took his place on Vito's shoulder. "Stand down, Tsuna. Defeating Mukuro Rokudo does not instantly mean you can hope to challenge the Vindice in any capacity."

Vito still thought it was bullshit that some mysterious, macho group like the Vindice are the guys that enforced "mafia law." They guys who were doing the enforcing was supposed to be a Commission, or the family to the Boss of bosses, or the equivalent to either of those two things. Not men-in-black wannabes.

Brasi fell from Vito's hand as he morphed back into a bulldog. The cool flames gracing Vito's gloves and his forehead dissolved into empty air. Vito started to feel all of the cuts and contusions he's been inflicted today. First, he fell to his knees. Then, he fell face first to the ground.

Passing out, Vito slept a beautifully dreamless sleep.

X

So engrossed in stuffing himself with spoonful after spoonful of ice cream, Vito yelped in surprised as his bowl and spoon were taken away from him. "Hey, hey!" Vito complained. He leaned back in his wheelchair and looked directly above him. Swallowing, Vito suppressed a burp and gestured frantically. "I'm not finished."

Mama's motherly smile and bright countenance weren't bothered at all by Vito's whines. "You need to save your appetite, Tsuna," she happily lectured. "Kyoko worked really hard on making you a good meal. It's based on your favorite bucatini recipe, too. You don't want to disappoint her. Do you?"

No, Vito didn't. No matter what world Vito lives in, it looked like his mother will always know him too well. "Alright," Vito relented in defeat. He sat back and relaxed as Mama pushed him up to the entrance to the Sawada homestead.

It was Haru who opened up the front door. "Tsuna!" she greeted. The girl spread her arms and dove in for a hug, but Vito lifted his unbandaged leg to stop her in her tracks.

"No more hugs," Vito said flatly, but not unkindly. He's already been through enough of them from Haru during his stay at the hospital. "Not until I can walk again."

Haru pouted and pressed her fingers together. She was muttering something when someone shoved her to the side. "Don Vittorio!" Gokudera welcomed. "It is a blessing that you are finally well enough to return home! And good afternoon, Madame Sawada! Please, come in!"

As Mama rolled Vito inside, Haru stepped in front of Gokudera and smiled sweetly at Vito. "Haru helped Kyoko cook one of your favorite foods! It'll get you back to one hundred percent in no time!"

Vito pointedly ignored the obligatory shouting match between his two most devoted fanatics. He and his mom rolled pass them as Mama whispered into his ear, "You have such good friends, Vito. Maybe you should let Hayato become your right-hand and go on a date with Haru like they've been asking."

Great. Vito's fine with his mother giving advice on his professional life, but getting suggestions for his love life was territory he didn't enjoy getting into. "I'll think about it," he replied.

"Tsuna-nii!" came the joyous outcry from three familiar kids that rushed toward Vito as he and his mom turned the corner into the dining room. Fuuta, Lambo, and I-Pin barreled into Vito and smothered him in hugs.

Fuuta had his arms wrapped around Vito's neck. When the kid pulled back, he was sniveling and had tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Tsuna-nii! Mukuro hurt you and the others so badly! I didn't mean for this to happen! But Mukuro was just so scary and he said he would kill my papa if I didn't do what he said and –"

"And it was my fault that he got to you in the first place," Vito interrupted, giving Fuuta the best reassuring grin he could give. "It's over now, Fuuta. You're home. We're all home and safe, and Mukuro can't do anything about it."

"But," Fuuta pointed weakly at the bandages all over Vito, "your leg, and your stomach, your face!"

"Don't worry about that. I'm still alive. The doc said that I'll be on my feet within the month."

Before long, Fuuta sniffed and forced himself to stop crying. Lambo and I-Pin each held Fuuta's hands and shouted words of comfort with their childish, high-pitched voices. After Vito shared a silent look with his mom, she picked up Fuuta in her arms and held him close as he hugged her back.

Thank God Mama was here. Bianchi was hardly the ideal maternal figure for Fuuta, so it was a good thing that Fuuta and Mama had hit it off almost instantly when they first met. Vito was pretty sure Fuuta never even knew his real mom.

Vito really should have given Nana a chance earlier than when he did. She wasn't Maria Scaletta, but that didn't matter. She was still his mother.

Something hit the back of Vito's wheelchair. He was being rolled into the living room now. Vito turned his head. Reborn was sitting on one of the push handles. "It's time for us to talk, Tsuna," the baby said. "Privately."

Resisting the urge to release an exhausted sigh, Vito stared blankly forward and asked, "Do we really have to?" He didn't even get to see Kyoko today yet.

The wheelchair came to a stop in front of the coffee table. Reborn hopped to the table and nodded his head at Vito. "Letting you recover without interference for the past month was goodwill on my part. Don't assume my goodwill is infinite."

Leon and Brasi were lying on the couch, Brasi with his back against the cushions and Leon resting on Brasi's stomach. Vito glanced at the amusing scene before turning to Reborn. "Where do you wanna start?"

"The beginning."

So, Vito gave Reborn the whole story. What little he could remember from San Martino, Sicily. Moving to Empire Bay. The war. Joe getting Vito out of the army. Luca Gurino screwing him over. Prison. Working for Eddie and Carlo. Working with Henry and Joe. Henry getting butchered. Starting a war between the Italians and the Triads with Joe. Killing Carlo. Getting Joe killed. Getting sent to New Bordeaux. Getting fucked by Marcano. Getting saved by Lincoln, and then getting fucked again by Lincoln.

Then being reborn here. Vongola Nono putting the seal on Vito. Vito's memories driving him insane. Leaving and becoming a Kozato. The Flood of Blood incident. Using everything Vito's ever learned and more to build something meaningful here in Namimori.

"I've tried to use the excuse that I'm a childish prodigy before," were Vito's closing words to his story, "as the excuse for why I'm so smart and ambitious for my age, but that's not it. I'm not naturally talented or smart. I've got all the memories and experiences of someone who's been in the mob for longer than I can remember."

Once Vito was done, he let Reborn have his chance to respond. Reborn looked as calm, cool, and collected as ever throughout Vito's tale, and he still looked like that now.

"I'm guessing my 'reincarnated spirit' thing has also been messing with the seal," Vito added.

"Most likely, yes," Reborn agreed as he regarded Vito with his huge, round eyeballs.

"So, what happens now?"

"What happens now is that you live your life," Reborn answered. "Not as Vittorio Antonio Scaletta, but as Tsunayoshi Sawada."

Well, that was kind of a given.

"No, it was not a given," Reborn said without prompting. Jesus Christ. Reborn was seriously too good at reading people's faces and knowing what they're thinking right off the bat. "Individuals who are born with memories of a past life are quite rare, but they are not unheard of in the upper echelons of the mafia. I am formerly an acquaintance to one such individual."

Holy shit. "Are you serious?" was Vito's flabbergasted and stunned response.

Reborn nodded. "The mafia is an unkind place," he said. "It is a system that relies on two kinds of people: those with power, and those who want power. Most people start life wanting power. Reincarnated spirits, like the one I knew before and yourself, beginning again in new bodies have already held power in their hands. They know its allure and its rewards. You have witnessed this in Mukuro Rokudo. In the mafia, it motivates them to work far harder than any of their peers. Others learn about the value of power as they grow up. My former associate was already well versed in utilizing it. He craved it."

Vito knew the feeling. "Who was this guy?"

"My first student," Reborn answered, continuing to surprise Vito. "Before you, and before Dino, I trained another. He had a powerful drive to succeed and grand aspirations that I had never seen in anyone so young. I assumed he was a prodigy, when in reality, his situation was much like your own. He bore the eyes, the speech, and the dreams of a hardened veteran and a knowledgeable connoisseur in the practices and traditions of the mafia."

And here Vito thought he was doing a pretty good job in keeping the truth about his old memories a secret. Reborn might have had Vito made the first day they've met if he's already tutored a reincarnated mobster. Maybe Reborn didn't know the specifics, but he probably got a good idea.

"What was his name?" Vito asked, repressing the small twinkle of misguided hope that popped up in his voice. Maybe Joe or Henry –

"His name doesn't matter," Reborn said. "He has been dead for several years."

Oh. Well, fuck.

"His ambitions were only matched by his impatience," Reborn explained. "His lust for power was ultimately his downfall. He sought power within the Vongola without proving himself worthy to his superiors. He couldn't wait, so he started a civil war that nearly destroyed the family."

Reborn was sounding pretty somber. "The Vongola's still standing," VIto noted, "so I'm assuming that the civil war didn't pan out. Is it right to say that, considering your title as the World's Greatest Hitman, you were the one who killed him?"

He didn't even need to answer. It was too obvious. The look on Reborn's face said it all. "The problems didn't stop when my former student died," Reborn continued. "His followers and allies were inspired to carry his torch. The desire for power and control became an infectious epidemic for the younger generation. After the war, many young upstarts attempted to overthrow their capos and bosses. All failed, of course, but the efforts to restore peace costed the Vongola far more than if my former student had instead bided his time, waited, and assumed power the correct way."

Dipping his head, the brim of Reborn's hat hid his face for a few seconds. "Few were made aware of my former student's status of having been reincarnated into this world. Nono is one of them and has since developed a distrust of reincarnated souls surfacing in anyone."

A thought struck Vito. "Did Nono know that I had a past life when he put the seal on me?"

"No, he did not," Reborn clarified. "To my knowledge, only myself and Mukuro Rokudo are aware of your true nature." So did Makoto Kozato, actually, but Vito didn't speak up. "It seems that the reincarnated are also more naturally in tune with their body's flames, regardless of whether or not they wielded flames in their past life. My former student was only a few years older than you when he activated his Hyper Dying Will Mode without any influence from me or any specialized bullets."

Something sure as hell influenced Vito to break him out of Mukuro's possession. Vito did have an entire conversation with whoever or whatever that strange voice was. Who the fuck was that supposed to be?

Vito straightened his back as he stared down his nose at Reborn. "Why am I still here if Vongola Nono wouldn't like me being a reincarnated soul?" Vito asked.

The hints of a smile started to appear along Reborn's face. It was just a slight curve at one end of his lips, but Vito recognized the signs. "Remember what I told you before, Tsuna. Under my tutelage, you will become Vongola Decimo."

Vito was no genius, but he had a pretty good idea on what Reborn was getting at. "I'm supposed to be your second chance, then. Dino turned out fine, but he didn't have the kind of baggage I've got or the kind your first student had."

Now a genuine smile spread across Reborn's countenance. "Timoteo will have his justified misgivings about you, but I can convince him to accept you. You're not like my former student."

"How so?"

"He only cared about himself. He would have drowned the world in flames if it meant getting what he wanted. That made him unfit to serve as the boss of an entire family, much less the boss of the Vongola. You, on the other hand, understand that the world does not revolve around you and you alone. You fight not only for yourself. You already have a family to fight for."

Damn straight, Vito does. He'd take a thousand fucking bullets for them. All of them. Even Lambo and Bianchi.

Well, maybe not Bianchi. She still refused to pay any rent. Mama and Reborn were both on Bianchi's side, too, so that only made Vito even more bitter about their money situation, regardless of the fact that Iemitsu was sending them money again.

But that issue was neither here nor there. "That's all I've ever wanted," Vito said solemnly to Reborn. "You know what I've lost. If teaching me to become Decimo is your second chance, then this entire life here is mine. I can't lose it all again. I won't let you down, Reborn."

Reborn gave an affirmative nod. "Is it Vittorio Scaletta that won't let me down, or is it Tsunayoshi Sawada?"

The name difference was really only a meaningless semantical difference at this point. "Does it matter?"

"It may," Reborn said. "Vito Scaletta is dead. Tsuna Sawada isn't."

"No," Vito countered with a shake of his head. "Vito is far from dead. He's still around." Vito gave an honest smile directed at Reborn. "And as long as he's around, Tsuna's life definitely won't be a dull one."

Reborn nodded again. "I can work with that."

"Great... Can we also not tell anyone about this? I know you gotta tell your boss, but my mama, my friends, Iemitsu –"

"You can tell your friends and mother on your own time," Reborn allowed. "I won't tell Iemitsu unless Nono orders it. Just remember who you are and who you fight for, No-Good Tsuna."

Vito snorted as he rolled his way out of the living room. "Yeah, fuck you, too."

Reborn didn't follow up with a dropkick to the back of Vito's head. Vito knew there would be hell to pay in the torture tutoring department once Vito was fully healed, but he still counted the lack of Reborn retribution or punishment as a victory.

This felt good, actually. Talking about his past with someone, whether it was with Reborn, the disembodied voice, or even Mukuro fucking Rokudo.

Maybe Vito will tell his friends and family about his past life sooner rather than later.

He'll just have to wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone who recognized the little "Godfather" references! 
> 
> Up next: the Varia Arc, with all new twists and turns! Also coming soon: "Barbaro Incorporated," a collection of extras and filler chapters taking place in "Who Says You Can't Go Home Again?"


	7. Are You Allergic to Red Lights?

Iemitsu Sawada can name at least three moments in which his life was changed forever.  

The first was when – after an unexpected ordeal of corporate espionage between the Tomaso Crime Family and Iemitsu's law firm – Federico Vongola introduced him to Timoteo Vongola, which ultimately led to Iemitsu's rise in the ranks of CEDEF. Iemitsu had once thought his father's ramblings of their criminal mastermind ancestor were nothing more than senile delusions. Now, Iemitsu knows with absolute clarity that he truly was born for greater things. 

The second was when his sweet, sweet Nana actually said yes to him when he proposed. The comradery and unity that CEDEF provided Iemitsu was one thing, but the love he shared with his beautiful wife was something else entirely. Iemitsu couldn't imagine sharing what he had with Nana with anyone else. "Family" had an entirely new meaning for him, especially when Tsunayoshi was born. 

The third moment, unlike the previous two moments, was a sorrowful time that changed Iemitsu's life for the worse. It was the day Nana had called Iemitsu on his emergency number and, in a fit of hysterical tears, told him that their son was missing.  

After six months of frantic searching, Iemitsu finally managed to find Tsuna, relatively safe and sound. All it costed Iemitsu in the end was twelve dead CEDEF agents, the start of a fruitless and unsuccessful investigation on the apparent Mist user with a grudge against the Simon and Vongola Families, a wife who he hardly sees and who refuses to sleep in the same bed with him when they're together, and a rebellious son who always refuses to look his father in the eye. 

Standing right outside the front yard of the Sawada house, Iemitsu loosened his neck tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He was sweating more than usual, his nervousness showing. His controlled composure had started to wane in the years after the Flood of Blood incident, the stress of the job finally catching up to him.  

Glancing to Lal, patiently waiting beside him on the ground, Iemitsu remarked, "You really didn't have to come with me." 

"If you're still considering establishing an official CEDEF branch here, then the boys need to learn how to operate in Italy without us keeping them in line," Lal said plainly.  

That was the compromise Iemitsu had managed agree upon with Nana. He couldn't simply give up his responsibilities with the Vongola Family, but when designated successor was ready and able as a suitable replacement CEDEF head, Iemitsu would be officially moving back to Japan and finally be able to be a real father. "Regardless," Iemitsu said, "I appreciate your company." Nana had liked Lal the most out of all the agents Iemitsu assigned to watch over his family. Women liked to talk and gossip and confide with one another. Pushing for Nana's and Lal's friendship was a conciliatory move on Iemitsu's part. 

"How do I look?" Iemitsu asked his right-hand.  

"You've washed all the blood off. That's the best you're going to get." 

The local Yakuza sure did like their sharp prongs. Iemitsu wouldn't call himself a naturally violent man, but exterminating the greenhorn criminals' den did its part in relieving some of his anxiety. Hopefully, Tsuna will appreciate his small olive branch, too. 

Iemitsu and Lal walked up to his house. He quickly discovered that his key didn't fit in the front door's keyhole. Nana and Tsuna's previous CEDEF bodyguards always sent Iemitsu the replacement keys whenever they had any locks changed. Had Iemitsu been younger, he would have felt sullen and surly about Reborn not paying the same courtesy. As he is now, Iemitsu only patiently knocked on the door. Reborn was a wild card Iemitsu has yet to properly make amends with. 

The Poison Scorpion answered Iemitsu' knocks. She chewed on a piece of Pocky and had a towel wrapped around her hair, her clothes mildly damp. She must have just finished getting dressed after taking a shower. "Good morning, Poison Scorpion Bianchi," Iemitsu greeted. He gave his charming smile that he used when he was on infiltration jobs and had to sweet talk cute secretaries. 

Bianchi wasn't at all endeared by Iemitsu's smile. "Good morning," she replied in a stoic tone. "Mama's in the bath. She's cooked brunch. Feel free to get anything you want." Then Bianchi turned her back toward Iemitsu and walked off. 

Reborn trusted Bianchi. That was reason enough to let her stay in the same house as Iemitsu's wife and son, but Iemitsu had expected a little bit more reverence than that. She acted like she had a thousand things better to do than to pay her respects to the man of the house. 

Lal stepped into the house first. "I'm going to find Reborn," she said. "You, get some food in your system. Maybe meet the other kids staying here. You're going to want to get to know them anyway." 

Still the soldier handing out orders, Iemitsu mused fondly. He nodded at Lal before heading to the kitchen. He'll let Nana freshen up and tell her the big news later. 

The Bovino child, Fon's student, and the Ranking Prince were all standing around the kitchen sink. The two younger children sat opposite each other on the kitchen countertop. The boy splattered dishes with soap, and the girl rinsed them with water. The Prince stood on a cardboard box as he dried the plates and bowls and put utensils back in their respective cabinets. 

"And that's why Lambo will be the World's Greatest Hitman after Reborn is gone!" the Bovino child was boasting, waving his arms dramatically and getting soap foam everywhere.  

The Chinese girl vehemently shook her head. "No! Master Fon is always the strongest! Tell him, Fuuta!" 

"Well," the Ranking Prince said happily, "Reborn does still rank number one in best hitmen, but Fon is also number one in hand-to-hand combat expertise out of all martial artists in the world." 

"Then Lambo will become number one in being even stronger than both of them!" 

"Lambo too stupid to be stronger!" declared Fon's student. 

At Lambo aghast gulp of air at I-Pin's insult, Fuuta shook his head at the girl. "Don't be so mean, I-Pin," he benignly berated. "Lambo will get stronger and smarter in the future! And so will you! In ten years!" 

And that strength of the Bovino child's ten years down the line was something Iemitsu was counting on to turn the tide in the coming conflict. 

"Besides," the Ranking Prince went on, "No matter how much stronger we get, Tsuna-nii is going to be strongest out of anyone!" 

The Bovino child snorted. "Lambo will be bigger and stronger than Tsuna-nii, too." The child shrieked when I-Pin suddenly splashed water in his face. The two kids started shouting and arguing, splattering water everywhere. The Ranking Prince flailed his arms and tried to restrain and calm down the children. 

Iemitsu smiled at the scene. These three must have done their job in filling the hole left behind by Makoto Kozato's son and daughter.  

Filching an omelet and a napkin from the table, Iemitsu bit into the food and turned to leave the kitchen. However, he felt something hit the back of his head. It was more of an annoying love-tap than anything that would do any notable damage. Iemitsu paused his step and caught the object that hit him. Of all the things that Iemitsu's been attacked with, he never expected to be on the receiving end of a bar of soap. 

Iemitsu turned around to face the kids again. Fon's student adopted a combat stance. The Bovino child had another bar of soap in one hand and a pink-colored grenade in the other. 

The Ranking Prince held a gun. 

Fuuta de la Stella was training the sights of a 9mm pistol in his hands at the CEDEF Head Advisor for the Vongola Family.  

"Stranger!" I-Pin shouted in accusation. "Intruder! Identify! Name yourself!" 

More sweat was starting to slip down the back of Iemitsu's head. The Arcobaleno notwithstanding, he was never comfortable with seeing children holding weapons with the knowledge on how to use them. "There's no need to get ready for a fight," Iemitsu said congenially. "I'm not an intruder. I'm Tsuna's father." 

The Bovino kid barked a haughty laugh and rambled some incoherent gibberish. Iemitsu put his attention on the Ranking Prince. Of the three, he was the only one who appeared to be nervous. His frown and posture oozed uncertainty. His rigid arms said a lot about his inexperience with guns. Rookie CEDEF agents from particular backgrounds and upbringings tended to act this way when Lal introduced them to higher-grade assault rifles and machine guns.  

The Ranking Prince was afraid to fire the gun, yet he was telling himself that he could do it if he has to. That could spell disaster for everyone in the room. All it takes is one reckless hit in the right place, and then.... 

"Fuuta!" yelled a harsh, striking voice. With a towel draped over her shoulders, Nana marched past Iemitsu and swiftly snatched the gun out of the Ranking Prince's hands. Though Iemitsu was behind Nana, he simply knew that the expression on her face must be one of wrath and outrage. "How did you get a hold of this?" 

Stuttering, the Prince answered, "Tsuna-nii gave it to me!" 

"No, he did not! This is not one of Lambo's toys, and all of Tsuna's guns are stored safely away in this house. You picked the lock to Tsuna's floor safe. Didn't you?" 

Tsuna installed a floor safe in his room? Why wasn't Iemitsu informed of this? As Iemitsu pondered on this new information, Fuuta looked down to the floor and shuffled his feet. "Tsuna-nii taught me how to pick locks, and Tsuna-nii said I should learn how to take better care of myself, so –" 

Nana kneeled down to Fuuta's eye level and clasped her hands on his shoulders, prompting him to make eye contact. "You know how dangerous guns are. You know how to run and hide and fight, but you don't know how to use a gun." 

"But I do!" Fuuta argued in a short whine. "My papa taught me how!" 

"And you were pointing that gun at Tsuna's papa," Nana said as she motioned toward Iemitsu. Iemitsu retained a flat look while Fuuta's face paled. "You're too young to hold Tsuna's gun, Fuuta, or any gun for that matter. Let Mama and your big brothers and sisters protect you until you're old enough. Okay?" 

Fuuta sniffed, as if he was holding back from crying. He hugged Nana and quietly muttered something Iemitsu couldn’t make up. Fon's student and the Bovino child joined the embrace. Iemitsu held back, feeling more awkward than anything. This was house, and that was his wife, yet he felt that he would be intruding on the moment if he stepped in. Lal was right. Iemitsu needed to get to know the three new kids living in his house better.  

Before long, Fuuta was smiling again as Nana sent him and his two friends off to play in the background. Standing tall as she gave a sigh, Nana turned to Iemitsu and offered a weary smile. "You look well, Iemitsu," she greeted.  

Iemitsu returned the smile, but it broke apart as he watched Nana unload Fuuta's handgun and disassembled it, separating the slide, the barrel, and the spring all in one swift movement. "When did you learn how to do that?" Iemitsu found himself asking. 

"Tsuna showed me how," she answered, and Iemitsu had to take a second to replay that answer in his head. "He knows a lot about guns. I assume Reborn has taught him a lot in that regard." 

"I could have taught you how to use firearms if you had asked," Iemitsu said. "Tsuna should be focusing on his studies and Reborn's training." 

Nana just gave her husband a sidelong look with half-lidded eyes. Iemitsu caught the meaning behind that look immediately. If he was around the house more, then his recommendations for what Tsuna and Nana should and shouldn't be doing in their daily lives would have a lot more weight.  

Well, Iemitsu had good news on that front. "I've gotten time off from the CEDEF office in Italy," he said brightly. "My successor isn't quite ready to take over completely yet, but for now, I'll be home for the next two months." 

As she massaged her wrists, Nana adopted a contemplative look, not the one of joy or relief that Iemitsu had hoped for. "Why didn't you call ahead about this?" 

"I wanted to surprise you and Tsuna!" Iemitsu said cheerfully. 

"The last surprise you gave us was making Tsuna the head of the world's largest crime syndicate," Nana said curtly. "What strings are attached this time?" 

In less cheerful tone, Iemitsu answered, "Do you remember when we talked about the Vongola Ring Conflict?" 

Nana's eyed flared in the same way they must have when she saw the Ranking Prince holding a gun. "You said there were no other legitimate boss candidates to become the Decimo. Who else could you or Timoteo have chosen to enter the candidacy?" 

"There weren't any viable ones when we last spoke," Iemitsu remedied calmly. "One of Nono's sons, the last living one, was – out of commission." Until Nono apparently unfroze him without any consultation from his Storm Guardian Coyote or from Iemitsu. Iemitsu still had great faith and trust in Nono, but all the gossip and the rumors about the Ninth's senility seemed to be turning into accurate statements. "Nono changed his mind on who he wants as his successor." 

"Then why haven't you changed your mind as well?" Nana asked sharply. 

"Who Nono has in mind isn't the type of man who is cagey about civilian collateral. If he becomes Decimo, he will perceive Tsuna to be a constant threat, and the little boy, Fuuta, really will have to learn how to use and maintain a gun for his own safety." 

"You told me Timoteo is an honorable man," Nana said hotly. "Why would he allow someone, his own son no less, to become the boss with a selfish, bloodthirsty attitude like that? At what point are you going to honor the promises you keep making?" 

Iemitsu started to feel his patience being tested. "You and Tsuna are still alive and live well," he contended. "Tsuna still gets to run his little gang, and you also have those three kids to take care of." Nana had always wanted more children after Tsuna. Iemitsu didn't want the overcomplication of more potential Vongola Boss heirs running around, so they had been considering adoption prior to Tsuna's disappearance. "I can't control what my bosses and what other mobsters decide to do, but I can limit and direct the damage they cause. I'm here to help train Tsuna for the Ring Conflict, and I'll stay and keep training him once the next Head External Advisor is ready. Just trust me when I say that Tsuna becoming Decimo is the best-case scenario out of a bad situation." 

"How is it best-case when an eleven-year-old boy like Fuuta is driven to the point of aiming handguns at his big brother's father because a sociopathic teenager kidnapped him and mentally tortured him to get to Tsuna?" 

Iemitsu was fully aware of the Ranking Prince's mental state. The boy was going to fine. He's seen worse. And that sociopathic teenager was being handled. "I've kept my word. I've vetted and approved all of Tsuna's Guardians and their tutors. They'll make sure Tsuna wins the Ring Conflict, and they'll protect him and the rest of our family afterward from further attacks." 

"How do you even know Tsuna will trust and rely on whoever you've chosen to be his Guardians?" Nana questioned. "It took months for Tsuna to accept Hayato Gokudera as a loyal friend. You're going to need to prove yourself to Tsuna, too, if he's going to accept any of your help or believe any promises you make to him." 

Though Iemitsu had to make some last-minute alterations to his plans, all of the chosen Guardians for Tsuna were going to work out. Iemitsu had absolute confidence in that. "Everything I've done," Iemitsu told his wife, "I've done for this family. Tsuna might hate me now, but I've done the best I can with what I have to work with to make life as comfortable and safe as possible for you and Tsuna. I am going to continue doing that. You have to understand that. Help make Tsuna understand that." 

"You can make Tsuna understand that yourself," Nana said as she turned away from Iemitsu to walk out of the room. Iemitsu grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving yet. 

"I'm here to help him," Iemtisu said roughly. "I'm his father. I'm your husband. Don't try to block me out of this family. Respect and reciprocation are two-way streets." 

Nana glared up at Iemitsu. Then, her eyes softened a fraction. "Tsuna thinks he knows better than others. He has a single-mindedness that's driven him to build up his gang and his close circle of friends and business associates. He respects me because I'm his mother. He respects Reborn because he's been tutoring him for so long. Getting Tsuna to respect you, with how little input you've had on him making those connections, won't be easy." 

"I don't expect it to." Anything of worth in life, crime or no crime, is never easy to accomplish. Tsuna's done well-enough to run his junior street gang. He's even got a few girlfriends catering to him, apparently. Now, it was Iemitsu's turn to prepare him to run the most powerful crime family on the planet. 

Gently, Iemitsu released Nana's hand. "Your student," Nana prompted, "the boy you assigned as my body-guard when I was in Italy. He's too young to become your replacement. If you're here to train Tsuna, did you bring him as well?" 

Iemitsu smiled. "I did. Tsuna can use a friend who has a good understanding on the inner-workings of the mafia." 

"He was a well-behaved boy," Nana commented offhandedly. She returned Iemitsu's smile, albeit with not as much enthusiasm or warmth, but Iemitsu chalked up this reunion with his wife as a net gain. "I think Tsuna will like him." 

X 

Vito already knew that Brasi the Bulldog was no normal dog, what with him being the offspring of a goddamn chameleon, but Brasi still managed to find ways to surprise him.  

Kusakabe guffawed for a bit. "Cat and dogs, huh?" he asked goodheartedly to Vito.  

Ichiro smirked and pushed his shiny glasses up the nose of his bridge. "My little Brando always had an affinity for canines. I'm not surprised." 

Brando was Ichiro's cat. He was purring and cuddling against Brasi, who looked perfectly content petting the cat's backside. Vito had long since accepted the fact that Brando hated Vito and would always try to tear off his face for accidentally stepping on his tail that one time, but seeing Brasi endear himself to the cat without even trying just irked him. 

"Gokudera," Vito called to his soldier-in-the-making. He's wasn't officially made and inducted into Vito's crew quite yet, so he could still be used for some of the more menial jobs that needed to be done. "Watch the animals. Don't let them piss all over the place or anything." 

"As you command, Don Vittorio!" Gokudera slipped away from the water cooler and stood guard over the pets. He gave them a look that said, "Relieve yourself in the boss's presence, and you will be destroyed." Brasi and Brando didn't look like they cared at all at the intimidating stare. 

Vito, Kusakabe, and Ichiro reconvened at the water cooler. Vito poured some cups, slipped some drops from his flask for good measure, and shared a toast with his business partners. "So, what do you think of this place?" Vito asked them. 

Ichiro distractedly fiddled with the knot of his neck tie. "It's a good location," he said, gazing at the mostly empty and unpainted room. A few boxes, chairs, and wooden tables were scattered about. They could hear and see some passerby through the curtains over the nearby window. "Not the building itself, but its close proximity to the mall and the street markets is perfect. Plentiful pockets to be picked, and plentiful fencers to sell our products." 

"What was the decided front we'll be using for this storage space?" Kusakabe asked, checking some documents from his manila folder. "Book shop? Restaurant? Retail?" 

"A tutoring center," Vito answered. Hana, walking briskly since she was late by a few minutes, entered from the front door. Vito waved her over and handed her an alcohol-less cup of water. "Ichiro and his people drop off their goods here during the early mornings. Hana's people set up shop and do regular old tutoring during the day and into the evenings. NDC prefects do security, stick around to act as muscle, and they get free service, for themselves and their friends and family members. At night, my guys play middleman and sell the goods to the shopkeepers willing to pay up." 

"Only the shopkeepers on the list I gave you," Hana reminded Vito. "I've excluded the ones too squeamish or too righteous to deal with." 

Vito smiled at Hana. He already knew she wasn't a squeamish kind of girl, but he didn't expect that she'd move on from only referring potential recruits to Vito's gang to being an active accomplice to one of his rackets. The money must have been too good for Hana to pass up. "Does anyone have a line on any contractors willing to spruce up this place?" 

"I already have trustworthy people paid and ready to get to work," Kusakabe said, nodding to Ichiro. "Since this building is bought in your name, they'll answer to you, Ichiro. They are discreet and won't ask any unnecessary questions." 

"You have my thanks," Ichiro said cordially. "If you've already taken such steps, is it right to say that we are all agreed and committed to this endeavor?" 

"Not yet," Hana spoke up, giving Vito a pointed look. "How much exactly are we dividing the profits between the four of us?" 

"I'd say it's fair deal," said Vito. "You three each get thirty percent. Last ten percent goes to me. I get free tutoring sessions, too, for me and anyone else I recommend."  

Hana, Ichiro, and Kusakabe all nodded in agreement. They all exchanged handshakes with Vito. When Vito's eyes met Kusakabe's, Vito glanced at Gokudera and jerked his head toward the back door. 

"Kusakabe and I are gonna take a walk," Vito said aloud as Gokudera ushered Brasi out the door, leaving Brando behind. "There anything else we need to discuss before we leave?" 

Ichiro shook his head and turned away to answer a phone call. Hana shrugged and held her hand open. "You still owe Kyoko another three hundred dollars," she reminded him. "The Sasagawas are leaving in a few hours. I know you can't send her off goodbye yourself, so –" 

Kyoko and Ryohei were finally going on their trip to America with their parents. Vito would have wanted to wait with them at the airport, but his business with Kusakabe, if everything went smoothly, would be game-changing as far as who dominated the Namimori landscape. 

"Tell her to stay safe," Vito said as he handed Hana the money. 

"Will do," she said as she left. 

With Gokudera following alongside Brasi, Kusakabe and Vito exited into the back alleyway. Takeshi was there with Mochida, the former happily chatting with the latter sullenly sitting back and crossing his arms. They were the lookouts for any unscrupulous sorts looking to interrupt Vito's meeting. As the sound of the backdoor closing shut echoed loudly, Mochida quickly stood at attention. Takeshi was still as nonchalant as he always was, giving a friendly acknowledging wave, but Mochida was still a little freaked at being forcibly recruited into Vito's gang and remained as still as a statute.  

Vito lit himself and Kusakabe a pair of cigarettes. Smoke filling the air, Vito said, "You and Hibari still owe me." 

Kusakabe looked down to his feet, a telltale sign of hiding his embarrassment and nervousness under a blank, unwelcoming expression. "I realize that. You know how Hibari is; too proud to admit how you helped with the Kokuyo situation." 

"Helped?" Vito scoffed. "I fucking saved his ass from getting shanked when Mukuro had his hands on him." Though Vito would still have put down money on Hibari breaking free of Mukuro's possession, reincarnated spirit or not, and taking out the illusionist psycho at some point without Vito's interference. "You kept saying you'd take care of the Kokuyo Gang, but then everyone in the NDC got hospitalized. It was left up to me and my crew, and it barely took me a day or two to get it settled." Granted, Vito had completely forgotten about the existence of the run-down Kokuyo Land. The only reason Vito found out about the place so soon was because of Reborn. "You and Hibari still owe me big time." 

"Your spars with Hibari have been downgraded to every other week," Kusakabe pointed out, which was total bullshit as far as equivalent exchange of favors went. 

"You know that's not enough," Vito said. "A lot of your guys are still recovering. None of them are at one hundred percent, except for yourself and Hibari. Even with your police contacts, that won't be enough to stop what happens next." 

Kusakabe sucked in his stomach and straightened his back, his fully height towering over Vito. "No one wants another war." 

"It won't be a war. It'll be a massacre."  

In the corner of his eye, Vito could see Mochida looking apprehensively at Takeshi. The baseball player only nodded encouragingly. Sighting, Mochida dumped his fists into the pockets of his jacket. He nodded at Vito. 

Vito liked Kusakabe. He could empathize with him, too, trying to do damage control in the aftermath of the turf war with the Kokuyo Gang, but with the NDC as weak as it is, Vito had to press now. Otherwise, he'll probably have to look into getting official Vongola help to one-up the Disciplinary Committee. 

Kusakabe better say yes to Vito's deal. If not, Mochida better not fuck up a simple gun-to-the-back-of-the-head execution.  

"That's option A," Vito continued. "Option B is reorganizing the NDC." 

Kusakabe sighed as he puffed out smoke. "Reorganizing how?" he asked. 

"In a few ways. I don't give you tribute anymore. You pay me the same amount I used to give you before Reborn upped the ante. You'll still get some autonomy from me, same amount that I give Ichiro and my other capos. Run your crew however you want, within reason. Namimori Middle is still yours, too. That's still off limits for the drugs and whatnot. For everything else, we'll be cutting out NDC territory at least by half. You'll have to work out deals with the other capos yourself if you want to run patrols in their newly expanded districts." 

Vito could see Kusakabe visibly become disquieted at the prospect of the NDC becoming subservient to another group after nearly a decade of being at the top of the food chain. "Hibari will never allow such things to happen. I can't be your lieutenant. I report to him and him alone." 

"You can still do," Vito assured. "Hibari works better as an underboss than a capo anyhow." 

Kusakabe bristled. "Kyoya Hibari is an underling to no one." 

Vito let out a short chuckle. "He's a self-proclaimed carnivore. An animal. I think I've done a pretty good job with Brasi. Give me some time with Hibari, and he'll be singing my tune eventually." 

When Kusakabe clenched his fists, Vito made a subtle hand motion. Mochida pulled out his handgun. "You're a smart man, Vito," Kusakabe said lowly, "but defeating Mukuro Rokudo and his ilk does not necessarily mean you can defeat Kyoya Hibari." 

"Maybe, maybe not," Vito relented. "I'm willing to bet that it does mean I can. I know for sure that Hibari's willing to test that theory, too. What about you, Kusakabe? You gonna play ball, or are we gonna have to go with option A?" 

Vito maintained a cool, confident composure. Kusakabe looked as intimidating as all hell, but the effect was a little broken by the obvious sweat slipping down his face. Gokudera leaned against a wall and was smirking, positive that whatever happened, Vito would be on the winning side today. Takeshi, wearing the smile worn from habit than from any actual desire to smile happily, was pushing Mochida forward step by step. Mochida was also sweating a bit, but his hands were steady as he readied his gun. 

The intensity of the stare Kusakabe was giving reminded Vito of Lincoln. Vito nearly broke away first, but Kusakabe finally closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. "I'll play ball," he finally conceded. He and Vito shook on it.  

Before Vito could congratulate Kusakabe on making the best decision he'll ever make in his criminal career, the sound of panicked shouting and explosions stopped him before he could. 

Vito turned to Hayato. The fanboy repeatedly shook his head, signifying that the explosions weren't his doing in any capacity. Suspicious, Vito gestured with a nod and guided everyone out of the alley. 

The street market was in utter chaos. Folks were running left and right as fruit, wooden boxes, papers pamphlets, and a bunch of random shit littered the ground. Smoke spewed into the air with no clear way to tell where it was coming from. People were also screaming wildly as they meshed and ran past each other in the mob. 

This was the fucking war between the Italians and the Tongs back in Empire Bay all over again. Except this time, Vito had no clue who was doing the fighting. Was another gang trying to inch into his turf again, except without any care put into public safety and appearances? Was it a terrorist attack or some homicidal maniac setting off those explosions?  

As if on cue, there was another explosion that let off further down the street. It was near the mall. 

"Kusakabe," Vito said without turning to look at him, "get your NDC boys and cop buddies to cordon off the place and keep people calm about this. Mochida, call up some of the guys from the Kendo and Boxing Clubs. Head to our friendly shopkeepers and make sure no looters get any bright ideas. Takeshi, Gokudera, Brasi – you're with me." 

Vito walked with a brisk gait. As they got closer to the mall, there were less and less bystanders and potential eye witnesses roaming the streets. So, Vito pulled out his gun. He let Brasi trot with them in his dog form since Vito didn't feel comfortable shooting the Brasi gun unless he was in Hyper Dying Will Mode, and Vito hasn't entered that mode since the fight with Mukuro. Takeshi drew the bamboo sword Reborn had given him, and Gokudera readied his dynamite sticks. 

A car had rammed into a side entrance of the mall. Between the broken glass and debris was a small opening into the building, but with the smoke blowing out from the car's engine, Vito didn't want to risk getting too close. Columns of smoke were also emitting over the mall as more explosions rang out.  

"Sounds like a war is going on inside," Vito muttered. He glanced at Gokudera. "Hana told me that you've been keeping track of the Yakuza's weapons smuggling. Any chance this is them making a move against us?" 

"Doubtful, Don Vittorio," Gokudera said as he warily eyed the car.  

In one spot along the long line of windows on the third floor of the mall, the glass burst open as someone dived out backwards. He was firing a gun, automatic fire from the pop-pop-pop sound. The guy was flying right along the glare of the sun, so Vito couldn't get a good look at the guy. He definitely couldn't see anything when the guy landed on Vito, particularly when the guy's elbow hit Vito in a particular spot below the waist. 

"The fuck?!" Vito wheezed out in a painful grunt. He shoved the guy off him. With one hand trying to comfort the broken, burning sensation in his crotch, Vito used one hand to press his gun against his assaulter's temple. "Who the fucking hell..." 

The guy had dirty blonde hair under an ascot cap. He had a trench coat and a red tie on. He looked about Vito's age, too. His tommy gun was out of bullets as he tried to reload, but he stopped when he realized that Vito had a gun to his head. 

He looked eerily familiar, though Vito couldn't quite place him. Vito could tell at least that he wasn't Japanese. 

"Shoot, shoot, shoot," the guy was saying to himself under his breath. Sounded like he was censoring himself from saying, "Shit, shit, shit." He shifted his eyes to glimpse at Vito. His gaze widened a bit. "Oh, shoot. You Tsunayoshi Sawada?" 

Vito locked the guy in a chokehold and pressed his gun harder against the guy's head. "How the fuck do you know that name?" 

"Easy! Easy, you freaking maniac! Ya kiss your mother with that mouth?" Vito pressed his arm around the guy's neck even further. "I said easy! Stop! I'm on your freaking side! Your dad sent me! Effing stop trying to kill me already!" 

"VOOOIIII!" 

The fuck was that ear-bleeding screech? Vito kept his chokehold going and looked up to see someone standing at the opening where tommy gun guy fell out of. The newcomer was dressed in all black, had a sword protruding out of left wrist, and had the longest mane of hair that Vito's ever seen on a man. 

"Are you finally going to start fighting seriously," the new guy said as he lifted his sword tauntingly, "or are you still trying to run away like a cowardly piece of trash?" 

The guy in Vito's arms patted Vito's shoulder with urgency. "Let me go! Squalo's gonna kill us both if we don't start moving in the next ten seconds!" 

The long-haired guy, Squalo, squinted his eyes. "What's this? Outsiders parading around?" He hopped out the window and made a beeline for the ground. "I'll slice up any trash that gets in my way!" 

Takeshi brought up his sword – morphed from bamboo to metal now – to block Squalo's. As Squalo rebounded back, Gokudera let loose with his dynamite. The ensuing blast forced Squalo back, but it didn't seem to do any damage to him. 

"Lay a hand on Don Vittorio," threatened Gokudera, "and I won't let you walk away from this." 

"Ditto," Takeshi said resolutely. 

Pulling his hostage up to his feet, Vito moved his gun's barrel from his captive's temple to his cheek. "Somebody better tell me what the fuck's going on here," Vito yelled into the air, "or somebody's gonna be getting shot." 

Squalo chuckled with a crooked smirk. "I don't know who you kids are, but if you against me, you'll die. It's as simple as that." 

"Okay then," Vito said as he let off a potshot aimed for Squalo's gut.  

Whoever Squalo was, he must be someone mafia-related, because no ordinary swordsman should have been able to weave his blade around with such precision to cut Vito's bullet in half and to catch the two halves in his hand. 

"Rush him!" Vito ordered his friends. Takeshi and Gokudera followed suit, letting Vito pull back as he put his gun against the tommy gun guy's head again. "And you. You got a name?" 

"Basil! My name's Basil! I'm Iemitsu Sawada's apprentice. I work for CEDEF. He's mentioned me, hasn't he?" 

Vito and Iemitsu Sawada don't exactly talk often. "Got any prove?" Vito asked. 

Basil gave a frustrated sigh. "What prove do you want? It's not like we have a secret password or anything. Heck, if you're gonna shoot at anyone, shoot at Squalo. Look at him! He's kicking your henchmen's asses!" 

As if on cue, beads of gunpowder were shot out of Squalo's sword. After another explosion, a blackened and roughed-up Takeshi was on the ground. Vito sent another potshot Squalo's way, hitting nothing but air this time. 

"Jeez, man," Basil breathed out to Vito as Gokudera got the top parts of his dynamite sticks cut off by Squalo. "You shoot like my sister. I thought you were supposed to be this badass mob boss in the making." 

"Shut the fuck up." 

Shit. Gokudera got knocked out, too. With Squalo setting his sights on the last two fellows standing, Vito let go of Basil and clasped both of his hands on his gun. Vito looked down the sight and lined up his next shot. Moving quickly, Basil reloaded his tommy and did the same. 

"Don Vittorio," Squalo said, testing how the name sounded. "The Bucking Horse has mentioned you." 

Dino knows this asshole?  

Vito didn't get much time to think on that when he felt a familiar Dying Will-infused bullet crack his cranium. 

When Vito regained consciousness, he was naked, except for the X-Mittens that weren't in his hands before and his boxers, being dragged along the floor by the arm. Basil was pulling him as he fired erratically with his tommy. "… and the label on the box doesn't say 'property of the Varia,'" Basil was saying. "If it did, I wouldn't be keeping it away from you. Instead, I'd have set it on fire –" 

The sword got way too close for Vito's liking. So, Vito kicked Basil to separate the two of them. Squalo's sword was brought down to make a crack on the concrete ground instead of cutting off someone's limbs.  

"Brasi!" Vito shouted as he scrambled to his feet. "Sick 'em!" 

There was a very brief moment of puzzled indecision flashing across Squalo's face before Brasi suddenly appeared and latched his jaws onto the end of Squalo's long hair. An unorthodox game of tug-of-war followed. 

Vito eyed up Squalo and Basil. It seemed that Vito's Dying Will Mode didn't do jack to harm Squalo, and Basil's coat might as well have been rags now. Basil also lost his hat, and... and now there's a freaking reddish-brown Dying Will Flame on his forehead. That's supposed to be an Earth Flame. The fuck. Earth Flames were supposed to be rare as hell, even more than Sky Flames. Typically limited to specific bloodlines, too, like the Kozato line. Where did CEDEF get their hands on an Earth Flamer user? Did they cut a deal with Makoto? 

Since Basil was fully-clothed, he must be in Hyper Dying Will Mode, but how did he do that? Did Reborn shoot him with something, too, when he shot Vito, or did Basil have something else to get him hyped for that mode? 

Where the hell was Reborn anyhow? He'd usually be making his presence known to Vito right about now, having shot the Dying Will Bullet and the would-be killer of the Vongola Decimo of the week already making more than a big first impression.  

"Shoot. Out of ammo," lamented Basil as he tossed his gun away. He pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. "I sure as heck don't get paid enough for doing this garbage." 

Something about the way Basil was clutching his fingers and raisings his fists rubbed Vito the wrong way. "Money don't buy you happiness," Vito found himself saying. 

Basil's pained frown was momentarily broken by a wistful smirk, as if he was reminded of an old memory. "Get the heck out of here," he drawled out with an air of gaiety.  

Not wanting to enter a conscious fight in his goddamn undies, Vito snatched Basil's torn jacket off his back by the collar. As Vito put the coat on, he got an uninhibited view of the design on Basil's shirt: red and white Hawaiian leaves and flower petals. 

No. It can't be. It's fucking impossible. 

What's the one-in-a-trillion chance this could happen? What were even the odds of two people from one world someone getting reincarnated into the same alternate world? Reborn said reincarnation was rare, but how exactly rare? 

Fuck it. Vito blotted out all of Basil's physical features and focused on the fact that he was standing with Vito against the mad swordsman trying to kill them. "So, how do we kill him?" Vito asked aloud. 

"We're technically not supposed to kill him," Basil said. "Squalo's Vongola, like us. It's, uh, a little complicated." 

"Then uncomplicate it." 

Squalo tore Brasi off his hair and pitched the dog towards Vito. Vito got a mouthful of dog fur. Temporarily blinded, Vito raised up his arms to defend himself if Squalo tried lunge for him again.  

The dirt and soft texture of Brasi's fur pressing against Vito's face was suddenly replaced; first by the cool sensation of the familiar amber flames, and then by cold, unfeeling metal. Blinking, Vito was greeted by the sight of Brasi morphed into a round shield that deflected another sword strike from Squalo. The impact of the hit reverberated through the Brasi shield and shook Vito's entire body. While Vito tried to regain his bearings, Basil came up from behind Squalo and hopped onto his back. Basil started punching while Squalo flailed his sword around. For all his effort, Basil ended up getting more cuts on him than the amuount of bruises he was giving Squalo. 

Squalo's fucking sword was dented, too, just a bit. Vito could see the little depression on the side of his blade. "Brasi," Vito talked to his trustee bulldog shape shifter, "the shield's a bit too unwieldly. Give me something that can help break that sword in two." 

It took only a moment for Brasi to alter his form into a gauntlet over Vito's right arm. It extended from his fingertips to up his forearm, and it greatly resembled that old gauntlet Makoto had kept in his safe. 

"Good enough," Vito decided. With his other hand, Vito picked up Basil's discarded tommy gun to use as a club.  

Basil was still trash talking with, "And I bet you didn't even beat Tyr in a fair fight. Being an assassin don't mean you can take him one-on-one! You probably poisoned his drink or something." 

Grunting in vexation, Squalo nicked Basil in the side and elbowed his chin. As Basil lost his grip on Squalo, the swordsman turned around to thrust his sword into Basil's chest. 

Vito charged in to stop him, Vito sweeping his makeshift club down for Squalo's back. Long-hair instantly sliced the tommy gun in half, but Vito caught the sword with his gauntlet. Vito clenched his fist and pulled, dragging Squalo along and hopefully crunching up the metal of the blade. Vito managed to drag Squalo a few feet before Squalo dug his feet into the ground and stopped them in their tracks.  

A kick to the stomach knocked the wind out of Vito, but he refused to let go of the sword. Then Squalo clenched Vito's spiky hair and forced his face against the sharp edge of the blade. Vito got a long, uncomfortable laceration down his cheek, plus a few other cuts as Vito tried to resist Squalo's hold. 

The flash of gunpowder shooting out of the indiscernible holes on Squalo's sword made Vito panic. With Vito distracted for a split-second, Squalo jerked his sword out of Vito's hand. Vito held up his gauntlet arm to block the sword swing sent his way, which sent him skidding across the floor. As the gunpowder went off and exploded, Vito was sent flying, right into Basil, who yelped wildly as the Brasi gauntlet accidentally hit a place on him at a place below the belt.  

Squalo was gunning for them again with no time for anyone to catch their breath. Vito threw a punch to bounce the sword away, making room for the limping Basil to throw his own brass-knuckled punches. Vito and Basil went back and forth with this, one of them deflecting sword strikes and the other aiming to break bones and bruise muscles. The Brasi gauntlet didn't dent the sword as well or as much as the Brasi shield, but Vito's confidence was starting to ramp up now. 

At least, until Squalo struck Basil directly down the front of his torso. Blood splattered in an arc. For a moment, Vito couldn't see anything other than red. He thrust his fist forward, Brasi turning into a ball of flame that barreled into Squalo. The swordsman was knocked back a good distance while Vito caught the bleeding Basil in his arms. 

Jesus H. Christ, Basil looked a thousand times worse than when Frank Vinci and his boys tortured Joe.  

"Friggin' heck," Basil spat out with a grimace, "new effing shirt, too. Lal's not gonna be happy." Basil weakly looked up at Vito and gave a bloody smirk. "Was nice meeting ya, Tuna-Fish. Wish I got ta know ya betta." 

Did Basil not care that he was fucking bleeding out? The hell was wrong with him? "Get up," Vito told him as he tried to get him on his feet. "There's a clinic around the corner." 

"Unless you've got that bigshot Shamal working in that clinic, it won't mean jack." Basil coughed out blood again. Vito had to stop moving him 'cause he was pretty sure the movement was making Basil bleed even more. "You got any Greeks there, maybe?" 

No fucking way. No fucking way Basil mentioning Greeks was a coincidence. "You mean El Greco. Not the painter." 

"Yeah. I mean the freaking doctor..." Basil trailed off. "Why? You know an El Greco? Here in Japan?" Basil bloodily coughed again, more erratically and forcibly this time. "Never mind. Guess this is it. Again. Second time's the charm, then." 

Again. As in dying again. "Paulie Biancardi, Luca Guidi, Dario Murtas," Vito listed off the names of the assholes who backstabbed Joe and hammered the nails on his coffin. "These names mean anything to you?" 

The life in Basil's eyes had been slowly fading, but now his fire was reignited as he turned his head toward Vito. "How do you know those names?" 

The amber flame that was Brasi returned to Vito. The fiery inferno covered both him and Basil. The amber color shifted to an orange, reddish-brown. Basil gasped as the skin and his muscles over his chest and stomach literally started to reconnect and mend themselves together.  

Vito had no idea what the hell kind of Dying Will Flame Brasi just morphed into, but he wasn't complaining. 

Vito was so focused on Brasi and Basil that he only caught Squalo moving for another attack at the last second. However, Squalo was interrupted as some sort of chord was wrapped around the sword's point. A blurry figure moving too fast for Vito to clearly see stepped in front of Squalo and threw a punch. Squalo caught the fist with his free hand, but the figure's second punch and a pull from the chord sent Squalo away and gave Vito, Brasi, and Basil some desperately needed breathing room again. 

"Ryohei?" Vito said in disbelief as the boxer stood protectively in front of him. "The hell are you doing here?" 

"Dino picked me up from the airport," Ryohei explained. Dino and Romario were here now, too, confronting Squalo with Dino's whip still tied to Squalo's sword. "He explained the situation. Don't worry. Kyoko understands that I must stay and participate in the coming battles in order to secure your succession in your family business! This is an extreme honor!" 

What coming battles? 

"… but if I fight people from allied families, the higher-ups will be nagging me for it," Squalo was saying in an obviously sardonic and playful tone to Dino. "So, for today, I'll leave quietly." 

Caught off guard, Ryohei suddenly got tossed onto his ass and slid a good twenty feet away, and Squalo was fucking inches away from Vito and Basil. Squalo reached a hand out, but when it made contact with Brasi's flames, the hand started moving in slow-motion. Taking the opportunity, Vito kicked his leg out for Squalo.  

Another fucking cut was made up Vito's leg when Squalo swiped his sword. Squalo did fall back again when Dino cut in with his whip, at the very least. 

"But I'll be taking this with me!" Squalo declared with a resolute growl, holding up a small box not a whole lot bigger than his hand. It looked like something people stored jewelry in. He must've picked it off of Basil during that little exchange. With a gravity-defying jump that easily went over the roof of the mall, Squalo shouted, "See ya!" 

Brasi turned back to his dog form. Basil still had cuts and bruises, but his torso was fixed now and no longer bleeding. Basil was still panting and gasping for air, though, and Vito was half-sure there was going to be some scarring.  

"What the heck kind of dog is this?" Basil said in disbelief as Brasi cuddled with his leg. "That's what animal partners can do? Shoot, Lal really needs to get one for herself." 

Speaking of, Reborn and Lal were also making their presence known now. They strolled up from out of nowhere, Lal giving Basil the same evil eye she used to give Vito  back in the day when he deliberately failed the mock exams she had given him.  

"I told you to minimize collateral damage," Lal reprimanded, sounding harsh enough to make Basil and even Vito instinctively wince. Lal gestured to the crashed car, the persisting smoke plumes, the various cracks in the concrete, and all the other damage done to the area.  "All of the repairs are coming out of your paycheck." 

"What?!" Basil exclaimed. "Hey, I did my part. It's Dino's own fault for being late again. Besides, I told you he'd be late anyway. Where's my three hundred bananas?"  

Lal's glare got a whole lot scarier. "They'll be spent on your medical bills, you careless fool." Basil kept his mouth shut after that. 

Reborn regarded Vito with a careful eye. "Those wounds won't heal themselves, Tsuna," Reborn remarked. "What's wrong? You did about as well as I expected against Squalo, but something's off. What's bothering you?" 

A lot was bothering Vito at the moment. 

First things first, though. "Takeshi!" Vito called out. "Gokudera!" Looking around, Vito soon saw the pair wide awake and running toward him. 

Police sirens started to sound out. Dino stepped up as he folded up his whip. "No worries, guys," he said. "I've paid off the cops to not mind us, and an ambulance is on its way to bring everyone to the nearest hospital." 

"Are you okay, Vito?" Takeshi called out as he got closer. He forced himself to a stop when he saw the state of Vito's leg.  

"Where did that sword freak go?" Gokudera questioned as his eyes scanned their surroundings. "You put up an extraordinary effort as always, Don Vittorio. Allow me to carry you to –" 

"The current level of fighting proficiency you two are at will be nothing but a bother," Reborn said to Takeshi and Gokudera. "You two can go home." When Ryohei regained his footing and stood up, Reborn added, "You as well, Sasagawa. Master PaoPao is expecting you." 

While Ryohei ran off, the rest of Vito's friends were stunned to silence. That was crueler than Vito would have expected the baby to treat Takeshi or Gokudera. 

As an ambulance pulled up to the scene, Vito ordered his subordinates, "Just do what Reborn says. Meet me tomorrow at Kawahira's at the usual time." For once, Vito didn't get any verbal or visible response from them. The two were just staring absently at their feet with narrowed eyes. 

Vito, Basil, Brasi, Reborn, and Lal were all saddled in the back of the ambulance. One look from Reborn banished the paramedics from the vehicle. Dino and Romario took the helms at the front seat. Reborn and his pacifier glowed a yellow hue as he let his Sun Flames do their magic. 

Vito was staring at Basil, and Reborn was staring at Vito. "Speak up, Tsuna," Reborn commanded. 

Now or never, then. "Empire Bay," Vito started with, prompting Basil to snap in Vito's direction. "The Zavesky Observatory. September 26th, 1951. Falcone made you an offer. He wanted you to whack someone. Said he'd make you a capo, give you your own crew. Pretty much everything you ever wanted." 

Lal raised her eyebrow as she glanced at Vito. "What are you jabbering on about?" 

Basil's mouth was kept slightly open and wavered a bit, like the words he wanted to say weren't coming out like he wanted them to. "But you didn't do it," Vito went on. "Henry was dead, your sister hated your guts, and I was basically your meal ticket to the big time. Why the hell didn't you shoot me?" 

"Can't be," Basil murmured. "Can't be fucking possible." 

Reborn observed silently, but Lal clicked her tongue. "What can't be possible?" she demanded. "And speak plainly." 

"Those two jap mooks," Basil recounted, still looking intently forward. "They called you Don Vittorio. Vito. Don't bullshit me on this. Are you saying you're –" 

"Why didn't you shoot me?" Vito repeated.  

A pause lasted for a while. Finally, Joe gave a toothy grin. "Well, you remember that five bucks ya owe me?" 

Rummaging through his boxers (because Vito always kept cash on him at all times after his house got burnt down), Vito pulled out five American dollar bills and held them up to Basil. "Too many years too late," Vito said, returning the grin, "but I guess that's one of the upsides to reincarnation. Making up for old promises." 

Joe Barbaro laughed noisily. "Got a point there," he said. He clasped his hand with Vito's, some of the money slipping through their fingers and fluttering in the air. The two old friends shook with each other. "Don't think you're still the smart one, though. There's a lot of catching up we gotta do." Joe stopped talking and laughing when Lal applied pressure to his shoulder with a small squeeze. 

"What are you talking about?" Lal questioned dangerously. "Have you been in contact with Tsuna before today, Basil? Iemitsu expressly forbid that. What have you told him? Your flames –" 

"It's been thirty-two years since we last spoke," Vito said. Lal had a good poker face, but she couldn't not be beyond confused by his comment. Vito turned to Reborn. "This here's Joe. Joe Barbaro, my oldest friend." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flame that Brasi used to heal Joe was the Oath Flame, repairing muscles and sinews instead of bones. As for how Brasi was able to induce that Flame, that's something that'll be explored as the story goes on.


	8. Like Two School Kids

When they got to the hospital, Vito and Joe were squared away on the top floor in a private wing. Joe was practically covered head-to-toe in bandages, looking like a mummy, and got a comfy bed to lie in while Vito, mostly patched up thanks to Reborn's Sun Flames, sat on a wheelchair. Once the doctors gave the okay, Reborn and Lal sent them away. Brasi and Leon hung out by the window sill. Romario stood guard outside the room, leaving the Arcobaleno, their students, and Dino to talk shop in private.

"So," Dino said to break the monotony of the beeping medical machinery, "to clarify, Reborn's already told me about his first student. He didn't tell me about you, Tsuna, but I figured out what you were a while back. I didn't know about Basil, though." Dino tilted his head. "Actually, do you prefer to be called Tsuna or Vito?"

"I prefer Vito, but either works." Vito winced a little as he shifted the weight of his bandaged leg. "How much do you know, Lal?"

"All of the Arcobaleno know about Reborn's first student. I had my suspicions on you Vito, but since you were Iemitsu's son, I decided not to look into it. With how much he fondly talks about you and Nana, I had assumed...." she trailed off as she sent a glare Joe's way. "You were much more discreet, Basil, but don't think that makes it excusable to hide such important information about yourself from me."

"How am I supposed to know that you'd have believed me?" Joe asked defensively. "Sure, there's baby-faced killers and rainbow-colored fire in this world, but I was pretty sure I'd get sent to the loony bin if I spoke up. It was easier to just go with the flow, y'know?"

Vito still can't believe Lal didn't know Joe was reincarnated into Basil. He seriously needed to give Joe more credit as far as being subtle and discreet goes in terms of not spoiling the beans whenever he was drunk off his ass (or high on sugar, since Vito doubted Lal would let be letting Joe drink alcohol). "I've been living here in Japan," Vito said, "but where have you been all this time, Joe? Italy, I'm guessing?"

"You betcha," Joe confirmed. "I started out in an orphanage in the old country. Quiet town, good people running the joint, but it was the ass-end of nowhere. Real backwoods with nothing to do. When I was like, about six or seven, I hitched a ride into Rome." Joe gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Turns out the guys I hooked up with were human traffickers. I was a kid back then, so I couldn't do much. They were operating in Vongola territory, lucky enough, so Iemitsu Sawada and his CEDEF crew ended up saving my ass. One thing led to another, and I ended up working for them. I gotta tell you, Vito, that your dad's a badass in this world."

So Iemitsu saved Joe's life. Vito should remember that.

"According to Tsuna," Reborn spoke up, "you died not too long after the Triad-Italian war in Empire Bay. Is that true?"

Joe's smile flattened. "No, it's not."

The fuck. "The hell you talking about, Joe?" Vito demanded. "Your head on straight, or are you forgetting about how those assholes backstabbed you in Chicago?"

"Oh, believe you me," Joe said, "those dirt bags tried their damnedest to get to me, but you know what happened? Leo Galante's boy Pepé Costa strolls in and knocks them all on their asses."

What?

"Galante cut me a deal," Joe continued. "Pepé had cancer or something, so being the badass that I am, they wanted me to be his replacement. I got to stop running, but part of the deal was that you had to keep thinking I was dead."

Leo, the old bastard, saved Joe, too, and Vito didn't even know it. "Fuck not telling me. Why didn't you try to find me?"

"I did try! What do ya think was gonna happen if I did find you? You and me both would be sleeping with the fishes." Joe gave a proud smirk. "You can bet your ass that I burnt down Lincoln Clay's fancy casino when I found out he killed you, though."

Vito considered that point. "Lincoln killed you."

"True," Joe confirmed. "Never met a moolie with fancy moves like that. Guess that being in special forces counts for something, but considering that I was going on a suicide run, I leaked out a bunch of info on his operation and the Commission to the press before going after Clay. Son of a gun is probably sitting in a jail cell back on our world, if he hasn't gotten shanked that is."

Wait a minute. "You turned rat?" Vito asked out of sheer surprise.

Joe shrugged uncaringly. "What can I say? Suicide run. Besides, they were all a bunch of assholes. Left us out to dry in the end, didn't they?"

Vito chuckled. Leave it to Joe to go all-in with a crazy idea like that. "You haven't changed one bit, Joe."

"Course not. I was a classy guy back then, and I still am now. Hey, when this whole Vongola Ring Conflict is over, we just gotta –"

Lal cleared her through. Vito was more or relaxed as he turned his head to look at her, but Joe visibly cringed as he rigidly moved to face her. "We're not done discussing your reincarnation status, Basil. Reborn and Dino will debrief Tsuna on the Vongola Rings while you explain everything you have kept hidden from me."

Vito could see Joe gulp nervously. Turning to Vito, Joe said, "You heard the lady. Guess we gotta catch up later."

"The hell you talking about?" Vito said sharply. "There's still a lot we gotta talk about." Even the glare Lal was giving Vito now didn't bother him as much as it normally would. This was Vito's first brother here, who he had thought had been dead for years, and Vito wasn't about to just turn his back on him because of some more bullshit Vongola mafia antics.

Joe had the decency to look conflicted. If Vito had to guess, Lal might have been a surrogate mother to Joe after he joined CEDEF. Starting over in a strange new world full of strangers with weird-ass super powers was rough-going for Vito until he built up steady relationships with the Kozatos, and Vito still missed them. Lal could be a cold-hearted bitch sometimes, but she was never malicious or cruel like some of Reborn's "time-tested tutoring techniques" could be. Vito can see Lal taking Joe under her wing in a similar way Reborn did to Vito. The first friends you make aren't ones you'll ever forget.

Vito can respect that, but he still had too many questions to count. What else has Joe exactly been up to while working for CEDEF? Is there any chance he's run into any other potential reincarnated people, like maybe Henry or Eddie? Why and how can Joe use Earth Flames?

By chance, did Joe have any info on the Kozatos? He worked for CEDEF, so....

"Listen, Vito," Joe said carefully, "the last thing I wanna do right now is turn my back on ya, but look at me." He moved what little he could with his bandaged arms and limbs. "I ain't going anywhere, and the clock's ticking for the Ring Battles. You really gotta get filled in on that stuff."

Ring Battles. Ryohei briefly mentioned something about "the coming battles." What did rings and that Squalo guy have to do with them?

But forget all of that for a second. Joe Barbaro was fucking here. Vito can't just ignore him and –

Lowering his voice, Joe added, "I don't blame you, Vito. I don't blame you for anything that happened after we killed Carlo. We've both got our second chance here, and it won't do us any good if we waste it talking about old times when there's a shitstorm with the Varia coming at us soon."

Joe was always smarter than Vito gave him credit for.

"Alright," Vito conceded. Jesus, the weight that was on his shoulders was heavier than he thought. "Just get better soon. There's some good people I want you to meet once you're on your feet again."

Joe gave another short laugh. "Same goes to you. Once this ring stuff is taken care off, there's a few boys back in Italy I want to introduce you, too."

With that, Dino grabbed the push handles on Vito's wheelchair and guided him out of the room. Reborn stood on Vito's armrest. Leon went to join Reborn, but Vito made a hand motion and a quick command to Brasi so that the dog could stay with Joe and Lal. Brasi even obnoxiously licked Joe's face, ignoring Joe's screeching complaints.

"You could've used your Sun Flames to heal Joe some more," Vito said aloud as Dino instructed Romario to patrol the other end of the hallway.

Reborn stared back at Vito's weary look. "Basil is Iemitsu's and Lal's responsibility," the baby affirmed. "He will live, and he will recover in time. You need to be ready to fight for what's to come."

"And what's to come?"

Dino stepped up and pulled out a small jewelry box that resembled the one Squalo had stolen. "It's the long-held tradition of the Vongola Ring Conflict," Dino began. "When the current CEDEF External Advisor and the Vongola Boss disagree on who the succeeding inheritor of the Boss title should be, the two Boss candidates and their respective Guardians have to battle one another to decide who will be wearing the full set of Vongola Rings. I have your half of the rings right here while Squalo took the decoy set from Basil."

"There's another boss candidate?" Vito said, surprised. He turned to Reborn. "You said all of them were dead."

"I showed you evidence of three dead candidates," Reborn corrected. "The fourth, Xanxus, wasn't a relevant player at the time. Times have changed."

The hell kind of name was Xanxus?

Oh well. That didn't matter. What did matter was how Vito was going to kick his ass. Vito has more or less taken over the NDC (baring taming Hibari), he's got a shape-shifting dog on his side, and Joe Barbaro and Vito Scaletta are together again. If some hotshot with a weird name thought that he could take the Vongola Decimo title from Vito, then he was going to be fucking disappointed.

X

Iemitsu's phone vibrated in his pocket. He paused in setting up clothes to dry on the rack in his backyard to check the timely texts Lal had promised to send him.

"The boys are alive," she had typed. "Will recover soon. Come to the hospital later. Need to talk."

It seems that Squalo had caught up to Basil, and Tsuna got roped into the ensuing fight. Hopefully, the two boys have bonded a little over their short jaunt. Even if Basil can be a bit too blunt or careless at times, he'll shape up to be a fine consigliere or underboss for Tsuna one day.

Nana joined Iemitsu with her own basket of damp clothes. As she started clipping shirts and trousers to the clothesline, she said, "There's one more basket, Iemitsu. Can you go get it?"

"Of course!" Iemitsu said jollily. Even if Nana wasn't returning all of Iemitsu's smiles, that didn't mean he would stop "grinning like an idiot," as Lal would have called the look on his face. It was Iemitsu's charming smile that had first caught Nana's eye.

Sauntering into the house, Iemitsu walked pass the Ranking Prince, who had his head buried in his ranking book. Bianchi had assumed control of the kitchen while the other two kids were playing some video game in Tsuna's room upstairs. That left the Ranking Prince to scribble in his book by all alone.

The boy glanced up at Iemitsu. Iemitsu showed him a grin and a welcoming handwave, the same pose he used to paint himself as a sparking heroic figure to most children he has to deal with, but the Ranking Prince quickly averted his gaze. Deciding to ignore the laundry for a moment, Iemitsu kneeled in front of the boy.

"You've already apologized for the gun incident," Iemitsu said in a reconciliatory tone. "There's no need to be shy."

The Prince made it an effort to keep his mouth shut, despite the wavering. The prospect of potentially killing his big brother's dad must be getting to him more than it should be. As such, Iemitsu opted to play the same card he had used on Basil all those years ago.

"You were only trying to be a good, responsible family member," Iemitsu praised as he reached into his inner jacket pocket. "That was very mature of you. You're a smart one for your age, aren't you?"

The ends of the Prince's lips began to pull upward. The kid did enjoy being treated and rewarded for acting like an adult. "Tsuna-nii says I'm a good role model for Lambo and I-Pin, and that I'm going to be a good boss one day!"

Tsuna must be considering molding the Prince into heading his independent operations here in Namimori once Tsuna officially takes the throne in Italy. "I'm not surprised," Iemitsu agreed. He revealed the bottle of sake he had appropriated from the Yakuza. It wasn't Iemitsu' favorite drink, but he's already taken a few sips from it today. It wasn't half-bad. "Since you've been a good little brother to Tuna-Fish, how about a little present for all your hard work?"

The Ranking Prince eyed the bottle with amazement. "That's an adult drink! Can I really –"

"Feel free!" Iemitsu insisted. He held the bottle forward.

Then a third person snatched the bottle out of his hands. Iemitsu looked up to see Tsuyoshi Yamamoto frowning down at him.

"Yamamoto-sama!" the Ranking Prince said in greeting. "Good morning!"

"Afternoon, actually," Tsuyoshi said with his own warm smile. "Hana, Haru, and I brought some sushi for lunch. Why don't you go help them? Make sure Hayato's sister doesn't accidentally slip any poison into the food or anything."

With a jumping to his feet, the Prince left to do as he was told. Iemitsu stood up and watched the boy move as fast as his short legs could carry him. It faintly reminded Iemitsu of the time Tsuna outright tried to run away and to lose him and Nana in the middle of a huge crowd at the park when he was younger. Tsuna motioning his hand to draw an invisible a cross when he had stopped in front of a torn, ketchup-stained teddy bear had been one of the more unusual moments Iemitsu can recall from the boy’s childhood.

Facing Tsuyoshi, Iemitsu regarded him with a nod. "it's been a while, Yamamoto-san."

"Tsuyoshi," the swordsman amended.

He and Iemitsu were never really friends, nor did they do much business when Tsuyoshi was a freelance assassin and when Iemitsu was working his way up CEDEF, but Tsuyoshi and Nana were old friends before any of them became engrossed in crime, and Tsuyoshi always performed his job without complaint in watching over Nana and Tsuna in the years after the Flood of Blood incident. Sending Lal and the other CEDEF agents were mostly a formality as far as safety for the Sawada family was concerned when Tsuyoshi was around.

Reborn has since taken over for the official 24/7 protection over Iemitsu's family, but since Tsuna and Takeshi were still such good friends, Iemitsu continued to wire Tsuyoshi the extra money for his services.

"Takeshi came home earlier today from his day out with his friends," Tsuyoshi announced, "with plenty of cuts and bruises that no common gangster would have been able to inflict on him. It wasn't hard to figure out that it was Superbi Squalo who had assaulted him."

There was no point in denying it. Iemitsu had scheduled to discuss this with Tsuyoshi the day after today anyway. "The time has come for the Ring Battles," Iemitsu informed him. "Earlier than expected, I know, but you'll have to teach your son how to better use his sword if he's going to beat Squalo."

The look on Tsuyoshi's face would have made weaker men soil themselves. "I was going to teach him regardless. I assumed I would formally teach him once he finished high school, once he's matured and gained a little more self-confidence. Yet my teenage son is being set up against the Varia's infamous Sword Emperor now. What happened?"

Too many things. Timoteo making insane executive decisions and Xanxus taking full advantage of them. "The Varia plan on taking over the Vongola," Iemitsu explained. "I know this isn't what I promised, but it just can't be helped. We're out of options."

"Like hell we are," Tsuyoshi snarled. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. Make me the official Rain Guardian. Leave Takeshi out of this. If anything, he can inherit the position once I've grown too old."

Iemitsu gritted his teeth. "You know I can't do that. The Rain Guardian must be devoted to the Vongola Boss. Your top priority will always be Takeshi, not Tsuna."

"Then you understand my gripes with the situation," Tsuyoshi practically growled. "I can teach Takeshi everything that I know, yet whether or not he can defeat Squalo remains to be seen."

The young Yamamoto is far more skilled than his father is letting on. Reborn wouldn't have recommended him the Rain Guardian position otherwise. "You can't keep sheltering him," Iemitsu tried suggesting. "Look at Tsuna. Someone as young as him beat Mukuro Rokudo, a mad man who slaughtered dozens of crime families. Takeshi's his best friend, so he can't be far behind in terms of drive and skill."

Tsuyoshi adopted an unpleasant frown. "There is a fine line between letting one's child learn independence and sending them off to the wolves. Tsuna acts like he's been under attack from wolves all his life and has adapted accordingly, but Takeshi hasn't even drawn blood in the midst of combat before. And you want him to go against one of the world's deadliest assassins?"

Iemitsu has seen people like Takeshi before. Blood may shock him initally, but ultimately, he'll sooner cut an absolute stranger's throat before he watches someone he is emotionally invested in suffer. The only thing Takeshi needs is to be put in the right circumstances. The Ring Battles were just the thing.

When Nana entered from the backyard, and a teenager girl with wavy black hair waltzed from the direction of the kitchen, Iemitsu and Tsuyoshi instantly stepped back from one another. No need to let the intensity of their little argument ruin the smile on Nana's face.

"Tsuyoshi-san!" Nana welcomed the swordsman. "Hana-chan! You've brought lunch? Tsuna and the others haven't arrived yet, so –"

"The boys got into another fight on the streets," Tsuyoshi interrupted, donning an embarrassed smile. "They weren't hurt that badly, of course. Takeshi's resting at home. Everyone else went to their homes."

"What about Tsuna?" Nana inquisitively asked. Tsuyoshi chuckled, ready to give what Iemitsu guessed was a half-untrue excuse since telling her that Tsuna was in the hospital would likely drive her into hysterics, or into a single-minded focus on going to him and caring for him. However, the teenage girl spoke up first.

"He got shipped to the hospital again," she said as she rolled her eyes. "I swear, between all the crazy Italian monkeys that keep coming to Namimori, he's spent more time sleeping in the hospital and the clinic than in his own home."

To Iemitsu's surprised, Nana didn't lose her composure. She merely sighed. "Are his grades at least improving, Hana?"

"Marginally," the girl deadpanned. She glanced at Iemitsu and straightened her back. "Sorry, but who are you"

"Iemitsu Sawada!" the man introduced himself exuberantly. "Tuna-Fish's dad. You're Hana Kurokawa, was it? I guess I should count Tsuna lucky for earning himself such a cute girlfriend."

Kurokawa relaxed her posture and snorted. "He wishes I was his girlfriend," she said, sounding unimpressed. Iemitsu couldn't quite tell if the flippant tone was directed at Iemitsu, Tsuna, or the both of them.

A rumble of footsteps from outside of the room began and speedily grew louder. Another girl appeared, this one wearing a ponytail. She was breathing heavily with a large blush on her face. "Haru is Tsuna's girlfriend!" she declared. "Haru means no offense to Hana-chan, but Tsuna-kun and Haru are going to become husband and wife!"

Kurokawa uncaringly snorted again. "Whatever," she said. Miura seemed to be appeased by that statement. She was about to leave when she saw the basket of clothes sitting against the living room couch.

"Sawada-san," Miura said slowly, "do you need assistance doing your laundry."

Oh. Iemitsu could see the wheels churning in the girl's head. If that steadfast declaration of love was anything to go by, then the fact that the laundry basket was full of Tsuna's clothes should be plenty explanation for Haru offering her help.

"If you want to help, then of course," Nana answered. Haru turned to herself to squeal in excitement before grabbing the basket and following Nana outside. "We'll be quick. Iemitsu, can you set some sushi aside for Tsuna? We'll bring it to him after we eat."

Didn't Tsuna hate sushi? "Will do," Iemitsu called out to his wife. "If you'll excuse me," Iemitsu said as he sidestepped Tsuyoshi and Hana.

Iemitsu silently hoped Tsuna was planning on maintaining a monogamous relationship with any women he meets in his life. Between Haru Miura's clingy and obvious longing for Tsuna and Hana Kurokawa's tendency to pretend to be Tsuna's girlfriend, Iemitsu is admittedly a little surprised that his son hasn't slept around with any willing partners as a form of teenage rebellion yet. Either way, Iemitsu was thankful all the more for it.

Enrico Vongola was allowed a harem of women to follow him for a time, but that experimental birthday present rapidly died out before long. Making sure he didn't impregnate any of his women and risk the Vongola bloodline from falling into unsafe hands was too much stress than it was worth. While his death was a sorrowful affair, the one positive was that CEDEF's workload was relaxed dramatically following the funeral.

Iemitsu made sure his footsteps made audible sounds that slowly grew softer, as if he was actually leaving the living room. In reality, he discreetly stood around the corner of a wall and out of view from Tsuyoshi and Kurokawa. The look that Kurokawa was giving Tsuyoshi as Iemitsu was leaving was more noticeable to a hardened mafia veteran than she had probably thought it would be.

"I almost forgot Tsuna had a dad," Iemitsu heard Kurokawa say. "Did you know that he was coming to visit?"

"I was not told," Tsuyoshi said quietly.

"Does he know about –"

"No."

There could be a thousand things that Tsuyoshi would like to keep secret from Iemitsu. A silent freelance assassin like how Tsuyoshi once was may very well have done a thousand things that would have made him and all of his blood liable for imprisonment in Vendicare. Iemitsu never delved too deeply into Tsuyoshi's past deeds out of respect for the man, but what secret could he be keeping that the girl was made aware of as well?

There was a short pause until the sound of a vibrating phone rang out. "Tsuna's asking me to meet him at the hospital," Kurokawa said. "Says its urgent. Guess I'll be skipping lunch, then."

"Just bring whatever Iemitsu has packed away for Tsuna," Tsuyoshi said, "along with whatever else you want. Be careful, Hana. There likely won't be another attack like what happened with Takeshi so soon, but with your new position, aiming to become a fully-fledged accomplice to Vito's extracurriculars –"

Iemitsu recognized that fatherly tone. He also recognized the smart aleck retort Kurokawa was about to bite back with. "I know the risks," she cut Tsuyoshi off. "I don't need another lecture."

As Kurokawa began to march off, Iemitsu silently made his way to the kitchen first. Ignoring the argument Bianchi and the Ranking Prince were having about whether Bianchi had poisoned the Prince's frozen yogurt, Iemitsu quickly set aside Tsuna's share of the sushi in a bento. Iemitsu was already on his way out of the kitchen when Kurokawa walked in.

If Tsuna was as smart as Iemitsu thinks he is, then Iemitsu had a good idea for what Tsuna was planning to do with Hana. Once lunch was done and Iemitsu did his best to appease Tsuyoshi on moving forward with Takeshi Yamamoto as the Vongola Rain Guardian, Iemitsu and Nana will have to pay a visit to the hospital. It wouldn't be the most ideal reunion between father and son Iemitsu would have wanted, but everyone in this family is used to disappoint. It looked like today will be no different.

That had to be changed. Damn it all if Iemitsu won't see a day where he, his, wife, and his son can all smile honestly with each other again.

X

Getting everyone Vito had called to the hospital took longer than he wanted, but it did give Vito enough time to finish sushi and Joe enough time to have his talk with Lal. Vito could tell Lal was still processing everything Joe told her. Since Joe was back to his bright, joking self, Vito decided to leave the matter alone. There'll be time to talk about what they've been up to since Empire Bay later. For now, there was important business to discuss.

They were back in Joe's room. Reborn and Lal were having a private conversation by the window with Leon and Brasi napping peacefully beside them. Vito sat on his wheelchair next to Joe's bed. Dino lackadaisically leaned against the wall and put his hands in his coat pockets. Romario had pulled in some chairs from the other room. Hana, Ichiro, Kusakabe, and Kawahira all sat in a half circle. Vito had also called up some of Namimori's club presidents; sumo club president Takada, karate club president Oshikiri, and Mochida, the kendo club president. The presidents stood right outside the half circle.

"Ring Battles," Kusakabe repeated once Vito and Dino were done explaining the situation. Kusakabe shook his head in irritation. "First Mukuro Rokudo heading the Kokuyo Gang, and now this Varia group. Seriously, Vito, half the Italians that come to this city in recent times want to kill you and care little for the collateral damage they cause. Are we supposed to expect more of this in the future?"

"Probably," Vito admitted. "That's why we're having this meeting. We're making sure everyone knows who's doing what while I deal with this Vongola stuff, and for future stuff like this. Now, like I said, Reborn here is gonna amp up my tutoring sessions, so I won't be around to handle most of the business day-to-day for the next ten days or so, and I'll still be gone for probably another week after once the battles actually start."

"I doubt that you're putting your 'right-hand man' to assume command in your place," Ichiro said as he wiped the lens of his glasses with a handkerchief.

"Course not," Vito said. Gokudera was loyal, but he didn't have the tact needed for a good boss to keep Vito's operation running smoothly. "I want you and Kawahira formally in charge of the entire gang. You decide how big everyone's cut is, if they deserve more or less, if there's any shopkeepers or low-lives not playing by our rules, and whether there's something to be done about it."

Ichiro can probably work as the boss smoothly enough by himself, but adding in Kawahira would make sure everyone knew that this was a temporary gig. While most people knew Kawahira only as the civilian guy who helps launder the money so that they get paid without the tax man hassling them, Kawahira was also the guy Vito made an obvious effort to show respect to, and to make every single person in the gang show respect to. Kawahira also made sure all of Vito’s guys were fed their noodle soup lunches and that the bar was regularly restocked. Ichiro had the smarts, and Kawahira had the charm.

"I am honored, Vito," Ichiro said, trying to hide his satisfaction behind a small bow.

Kawahira gave a yawning sigh. "Please don't take too long with these ring battles," he requested. "I'll do what I can as co-boss, but I became a member of your little syndicate to get out of working for good money, not to handle your own responsibilities."

"It's only temporary," Vito reminded him, the lazy bum. "Ichiro, I also want you and Kusakabe to hash out borders with the other capos. People still respect the NDC. With these battles, and for afterward, we gotta make sure none of our boys get into territory disputes. Let's square that stuff away now before anyone starts getting greedy."

Kusakabe crossed his arms. "What of Hibari? I understand the metaphorical role of the Cloud Guardian, but on paper, he will never truly submit himself to you."

"Lucky for him that I don’t need him to submit to me. At least not yet." Vito nodded his head toward Dino. "Hibari'll be too busy training with Dino and getting ready to fight the Varia's Cloud Guardian to think about fighting for the sake of a 'herbivore', or for someone other than himself or the NDC."

After eyeing Dino for a brief moment, Kusakabe let out a breath. "Hibari has mentioned his desire to do combat with a certain whip wielder as of late." Dino chuckled at that.

Hana decided to jump in. "You're not seriously considering putting Takeshi, Hayato, and Ryohei against trained assassins?" she questioned. "Why not get older Guardians who have a better chance of not getting themselves killed?"

Yeah, it took Vito a while to decide whether or not to rely on three of his closest and toughest friends to be Guardians, but with Reborn's recommendations and not a whole lot of alternative options, Vito went with it. "Takeshi's dad is training him, Reborn's scheduled for Shamal to come to Japan and help out Gokudera, and a friend of Lal's and Reborn's is going to prep Ryohei. With a little faith and a little luck, they'll win out in the end.” Vito can tell Hana wasn’t convinced. Her loss. “Anyway, that leaves the spots for Lightning and Mist. That’s what the rest of you are here for.”

Mochida shuffled his feet. “You want some of us to fight as Guardians?” he asked nervously.

Vito nodded and smiled with a sidelong look. “Pretty big promotions, ain’t it?”

“But we don’t even know how to use Flames.”

“That’s what Joe’s here’s for.” Vito gestured to Joe, who held up small medicine bottle. He shook it to let the pills inside rattle.

“These are called Dying Will Pills,” Joe explained as he tossed Vito the bottle. “Ya swallow one of ‘em – and only one – and your strongest Dying Will Flame you’ve got packing will pop on ya forehead for about a minute. You won’t know how to use it, but whatever your Flame is, my job’s to help train you.”

Takada and Oshikiri exchanged excited looks while Mochida pulled at the collar of his shirt. Hana leaned back in her chair and crossed one of her legs over the other. “I’ve never been in a fight before,” she simply stated. “Why am I here?”

“The club captains are here because they’re tough as nails and trustworthy,” Vito said, staring intently back at Hana’s sharp grey eyes. “You’re here because with a work ethic like yours, I bet you could even kick Hibari’s ass if you trained hard enough.”

Hana would benefit from Joe teaching her a thing or two about throwing a good punch anyway. If she was going to be a criminal, then she needed to know how to take care of herself when the shit will ultimately hit the fan. Her gun alone won’t be enough, if Vito’s most recent hardcore fights were any indication.

“Let’s make something clear, though,” Vito went on, speaking seriously so that his crew looked at him with the upmost of attention and respect. “I only need one Lightning Guardian and one Mist Guardian. If any of you think about replacing a Guardian that I’ve already chosen, don’t. Or you’ll be too busy drowning in the Namimori River to get the chance to test out your new Flame powers.”

The collection of resolute nods was all the confirmation Vito needed. With that, he handed Hana the bottle and let her pass out the pills.

Joe leaned in to whisper into Vito’s ear. “Neat crew you’ve got here,” Joe said. “Hana girl’s kinda cute. She seeing anyone?” Vito rolled his eyes and lightly pushed Joe back. He had a cheeky grin now, a grin that Vito mirrored. God, the two of them were going to have to take a drive down through downtown Namimori eventually. There was this one cathouse Vito has invested money in and was planning to bring Takeshi, Ryohei, and Kusakabe to once they were all a little older and more experienced with women, but Joe could use a good pick-me-up once he’s fully recovered from the fight with Squalo.

As Vito’s guys started downing pills, the lean and mean Oshikiri  and the fat sumo man Takada got fiery red flames sparking from their foreheads. “Those are Storm Flames,” Vito said. “I’ve already got Gokudera for that, but Storm Flames are supposed to be pretty destructive things. You guys should go pay Ryohei a visit tonight, help with his training before his tutor comes around.” The two club captains nodded in agreement.

A purple flame expanded from the top of Hana’s head. She blinked repeatedly for a moment. “This feels... odd,” she said slowly. “There won’t be any ill side effects from taking these pills. Will there?”

“Nah,” Joe reassured, “you’ll just feel a little more tired than usual. You just gotta take a long nap after this.”

“What’s my Flame, then?”

“Cloud,” Vito said, admittedly a tiny bit disappointed. He trusted Hana and enjoyed her company plenty, but Hibari was too good a bloodthirsty maniac to pass up on. “You can’t be a Guardian, but since we know what your Flame is now, we can still get you some training.” Vito whistled, and Brasi drowsily woke up and stood up on all fours. The bulldog trotted and hopped onto Hana’s lap. Usually, Hana wasn’t much of a dog fan, but since Brasi’s Flame was all orange and Sky-like and all, she started petting Brasi without hesitation. Brasi had that calming effect on people.

Vito would have had Brasi do the same for Mochida if Hana wasn’t in the room. As it was, Mochida was taking deep breathes, keeping his eyes closed, and held a fist to his chest as sporadic green flame flashed on his forehead.

“Am I on fire yet?” Mochida asked into the air. “I can’t tell.” He opened one eye and yelped in a panic as he saw that the top of his head was indeed on fire. “Whoa! What’s this one?”

“That would be Lightning,” Vito said. He took a quick glance at Kusakabe, who had also swallowed a Dying Will Pill for the sake of it. He also had a green flame, but with his position in the Disciplinary Committee, he was out of the Guardian race. Kusakabe also offered Kawahira and Ichiro their own pills, but they both declined.

“I’m a thief and a businessman,” Ichiro politely said. “I'm not Guardian material, I’m sure.”

“I’m simply not interested,” Kawahira said, like the lethargic geezer that he wanted to present himself as.

“No Mist Flames, it looks like,” Vito observed as he opened up the jewelry box containing his half of the Vongola Rings, “but we’ll figure that out later. Congratulations, Mochida. You’ve been promoted. Not quite made, but now you’re living a new life as the Vongola Decimo’s Lightning Guardian.”

While Mochida was really anxious and tense around Vito for obvious reasons – namely, beating the crap out of him in front of the entire school – he had a thing for titles and image. He was number five or six in most popular boys in Namimori Middle before Vito beat him up. As Vito found out later, he tried to get with Kyoko mostly to just up his ranking. Mochida even hung out with Vito’s posse at Namimori Middle sometimes. Vito wasn’t exactly a popular, well-liked person among students and staff at the school, but people still respected him and showed it to him, and by extension folks did the same for Mochida.

Bestowing Mochida with the flashy title of Vito’s new Guardian finally put a smile on the kendo club captain’s face.

As Mochida held his hand up at Vito’s beckoning, Vito was about to place the coinciding ring onto Mochida’s finger he was blocked by someone putting their meaty hand between them.

Vito looked up and scowled. “The fuck are you doing here?”

From behind Vito, Joe spat out the juice from the juice box he had been drinking. “What the fuck, Vito? That’s your dad! Don’t tell me you speak to your mother like that!”

Joe must know what Iemitsu did, how he made sure Vito and the Kozatos could never contact each other all these years. It was a CEDEF operation, but Joe and Vito haven’t gone over everything they’ve been up to since being reborn here. Joe doesn’t know how much Enma, Mami, Magi, and Makoto meant to him.

“I’m sorry, Tsuna,” Iemitsu said with a meaningless apologetic tone, “but you can’t make this boy your Lightning Guardian.”

“And why the fuck not?” Vito threw the ring back into the box. He also motioned Mochida to back up and stay back, which he did so obediently. “He’s got the right Flames.”

Regret was painted on Iemitsu’s face, but regret wouldn’t mean much unless he did something to make up for it. “The Vongola have already made promises with the Bovino Family. Lambo is to be your Lightning Guardian, and no one else.”

What in God’s name was Iemitsu talking about? “Lambo’s a drooling five-year-old who still pisses his bed.” He didn’t, actually, but Vito’s point still stands as far as how insane an idea making Lambo his Guardian went. There was no way Vito would send a kid like Lambo, even as annoying as he can be, to the front lines of a mafia-Dying Will battle. “Do you want him to get his neck broken or something when the Varia come?”

“Lambo has the ten-year-bazooka to help in his battle,” Iemitsu said in an infuriatingly calm tone, “and I’ve already made arrangement to secure you a Mist Guardian. All you have to do until the Varia arrive is heal and to ready yourself for your own Ring Battle.”

This was total horseshit. “And you couldn’t call? Couldn’t give me some warning about any of this? Of the Varia, you deciding who gets to put their life on the line for my sake?” Lambo wouldn’t even understand the stakes of what he’d be risking his life for. “You want me to be the boss instead of this Xanxus guy, but how can I be the boss if you keep important information like this from me? Making promises I know fuck-all about to other families I’ve never met, and expecting me to uphold those promises?”

Iemitsu’s stance and his facial expression grew firmer, sterner. He didn’t like how Vito was talking. “Would you have answered and listened if I had called?”

No. No, Vito would have probably hung up on him. Vito had to give him that.

“Wait, Lambo’s five?” Joe spoke up. He was giving Iemitsu an incredulous look. “You didn’t even let me hold a gun till I was twelve!” Vito bet Joe still got his hands on a firearm before he even hit double-digits in the age range. “Even with the ten-year-bazooka, that’s a pretty ballsy thing to do. Not to mention risky.”

Glancing between Vito and Joe, Iemitsu stated, “The two of you are getting along well, I see.” Then he turned to the rest of the occupants in the room. “And you are all Vito’s followers and lieutenants. Thank you for looking after –”

“Meeting adjourned!” Vito cut in, nodding his head toward the door. “Business is done for today. Now, I gotta have a family meeting here.”

Ichiro and Kusakabe hurried on without a second glance. Takada, Oshikiri, and Mochida rushed out, the former two probably eager to experiment with their Storm Flame potential with Ryohei and the latter one clearly not wanting to get in the middle of family drama. Kawahira made a show of shaking Iemitsu’s hand before leaving, and Hana only left when Vito gestured at her a second time.

With Hana gone, Brasi made himself comfortable on Dino’s shoulder. “Should I leave as well?” Dino tentatively asked, keeping up a cordial smile. “I don’t mind giving you your privacy.”

Vito had to give Mama a second glance when she walked into the hospital room. “You can stay,” she said sweetly to Dino. “I think you can count as family. You are Tsuna’s older brother, after all.” Had Dino been a more insecure kind of a guy, he’d have been blushing right about now. As it was, he gave a charming grin that would have made weaker women blush. Mama looked around the room. “You can stay, too, Reborn, Lal, if you want.” That left Joe, who Mama eyed carefully over. “Basil-kun, do you remember me? I’m Tsuna’s mother.”

Joe gave a toothy grin as he nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I gotta say, Miss Sawada. You’re son’s a pretty swell guy.” Joe winked at Vito. “He’s lucky to have a caring mother like yourself looking after him.”

Oh. So, Joe was trying the schmoozing route to impress Mama. This was going better than what Vito had expected the introduction between Joe and Mama to go. Mama sure did enjoy getting complimented for being a good mother.

“You’re such a polite young man, Basil. And I hope your recovery is going well, Tsuna,” Nana said as she stepped between Vito and Iemitsu. “Tsuyoshi-san and Hana-chan told me about the confrontation you two had on the streets. I’m happy to hear that you’ve become friends so quickly, but there are better ways to make friends than by endangering your lives together.”

Before Mama came here, Vito was considering up to this point about telling her and everyone else about Vito Scaletta, about how he’s reincarnated and everything. Meeting Joe again after so long and despite the impossible odds just made him so happy. So many things left unspoken didn’t have to go on unsaid any longer. Maybe Vito wouldn’t have to keep so many damn things secret from his Mama and his other friends any more.

But his Mama looked so happy, so proud right now. Vito was in bandages after one of the toughest fights he’s been in since being born in this world, but his Mama was grinning at the prospect of her son making a new friend. Maria Scaletta had done the same thing when Vito first introduced Joe to her. Kid Vito didn’t think too much about his mom giving him extra pennies to buy some fruit for him and Joe. He was too busy being excited to steal the fruit vendor’s stash of ripe bananas with Joe at the time, but the dreams Vito used to have after Nono gave him his seal made him see what his mom did in another light.

It was just an innocent thing, seeing a friendship easily and readily be born. Vito guessed that seeing him and Joe become partners in crime was a sign to Maria Scaletta that her boy would assuredly not live a lonely life, at least for a time. Vito’s mom changed her tune when the pair became actual partners in crime, but back when they were kids, it must have been sweet to see two boys who didn’t know any better tackle their shitty lives with an earnest jump to their step.

Vito was hardly a kid who knew better when growing up in the Sawada house. Mama never got to see Vito bring close friends home or send Vito off to spend the night at a friend’s house. Not until last year, anyway. Vito was too distant, and likewise, Takeshi, Hana, Kyoko, and Ryohei were too distant to her until recently.

Now, here was Joe – who had mentioned how he met Mama and gotten along with her when she was in Italy – chumming it up with Vito – who she still saw as her baby boy. It’s like how Mama has tried to pair Vito up with Kyoko or Haru, or how she has tried getting Vito and Gokudera to become better friends. Mama wants to make sure Vito doesn’t stray far away from his friends and family. in the case of Joe, there‘s no way in hell they were going to abandon each other ever again. 

Mama can probably see that, or she’s at least hoping for that; two best friends teaming up to take on the world, and it’s a brotherhood that she’ll have helped build for her son.

Vito didn’t want to ruin the image Mama’s probably picturing in her head by opening the can of worms on reincarnation and dumping it out in the open. Like Joe said, there’ll be time for that later. For now, the Varia and the Vongola Rings are the priority.

And Iemitsu’s here, too. Vito’s still gotta deal with that. “Why are you here, anyway?” Vito asked Iemitsu. “I’d have been back home by tonight.”

“You were injured, and I wanted to see and make sure you were alright,” Iemitsu said plainly. “Is it so surprising for a father to act in such a way?”

Vito still didn’t see Iemitsu much as a father. Not his father. Neither of them has spent enough time with each other for Vito to feel that way. Hell, Tsuyoshi Yamamoto was closer to a father Vito has had after leaving the Kozatos. Vito and his friends regularly ate at TakeSushi, and Tsuyoshi’s protectiveness and concern for Takeshi inevitably bled over to the rest of their little gang.

Shit. Vito just realized that he did not at all know if Iemitsu was aware of Mama getting... intimate with Tsuyoshi from time to time. Vito couldn’t see Iemitsu hurting Mama if he knew, but attacking Tsuyoshi was a good possibility, and a very undesirable one in any case. Vito should have asked Hana if she saw or heard anything when she and Tsuyoshi visited the Sawada house, but explaining the Ring Conflict had taken precedence.

“As the External Advisor,” Reborn spoke up, “Iemitsu’s presence is required to help facilitate your Guardians’ training and the Ring Battles. He will also prove to be a useful assistant alongside Basil for your own accelerated training, Tsuna.”

Vito snorted at Reborn calling Iemitsu an assistant. Iemitsu also snorted, probably for the same reason Vito did: Reborn loved degrading others to a lower status and position in comparison to himself a little too much.

“I’m sorry for overstepping my bounds,” Iemitsu began to say, “and impeding on your own decisions, Tsuna, but regardless of what you think, I’m only here to help you become the best boss you can be.”

“I thought that was what Reborn was here for,” Vito pointed out.

Mama’s shake of her head made Vito rein in the bite in his bark. “Listen to what your father has to say,” she insisted. “As he said, we’re only here to help. I may not fully understand the traditions in the Vongola like this Ring Conflict or the various powers behind your Dying Will Flames, but I do know that Reborn, Basil, and you father can and will help you through all of it.”

Goddamn it, Mama’s giving her own recommendation for Iemitsu now.

Vito needed only one more before he’ll really shut his trap about him.

“Yeah, your dad’s a swell guy, too, Vito– uh, Tsuna,” Joe said, jostling his friend’s shoulder. “Not as cool as Lal, I’ll admit, but he can get the job done – the job being, getting you to make Xanxus wish he’d never been born a Vongola.”

Iemitsu gave Joe a teasing look that said, “Oh, you wound me, my spoiled and disrespectful apprentice.” Joe returned the look with a smirk, as if to say, “You’re damn right.”

Fine. Vito can work with Iemitsu for the greater good. If Vito can handle working for an dirty snake like Luca Gurino or an obvious backstabber like Sal Marcano, a person who Vito holds in contempt but has undeniable skills and experience useful to Vito like Iemitsu should be a cakewalk.

“You’re the boss,” Vito said to Iemitsu, “technically, in this situation. But let’s be clear. We’re all working hard so that I can become boss, and so that you can retire. I know you’ll take care of Mama once you do, but don’t think for one second that when I become the official Decimo, or when we beat the Varia, that I’m going to consider you as my father.”

With Iemitsu’s crestfallen face taking form – man must have had an idealized image of him being a loved and proud father in his head before Vito ran away from home – Nana spoke up sharply. “Tsunayoshi –”

“Until I get to see my brother and sister again,” Vito went on, “the only person I can call ‘father’ without lying to myself is Makoto Kozato.”


	9. The Buzzsaw

With the Dying Will Flame blazing brightly across his forehead, Vito threw another punch at his opponent. His fist made contact with his opponent's nose, but it didn't look like the punch did any discernible damage.

Instead, Vito got his arm grabbed and was thrown over his opponent's shoulder. Vito yelped and only just managed to land on his two feet instead of sprawling across the rocky floor. He didn't get any time to catch his breath, unfortunately, as a barrage of punches suddenly rained down on him. Vito held up his arms and tried to swerve around the assault, but the one straight that got him in the side of his face really got him good.

That hit sent shockwaves through Vito's skull and crackled down his spine. Once the punching stopped, Vito numbly dropped to his knees. The sun was at the right angle to give a bright enough shine to hurt Vito's eyes. A tall, giant, shadowy silhouette stepped in front of Vito to block the light.

"I thought you said you already knew how to throw a punch, Tsuna," Iemitsu said lowly. It was less a taunt and more like a quiet observation, but it still pissed Vito off. "Listen, look, and learn. This is how you throw a punch."

Iemitsu pulled his arm back. Despite how messed up his jaw was feeling, Vito ignored that and the jerky set of teeth pushing against his cheek to give a whistle. Right on cue, Brasi popped up from behind a nearby boulder to latch his fangs onto Iemitsu's elbow.

Despite the growls, snarls, and chomping Brasi was doing, none of that stopped Iemitsu from delivering his next punch. The other part of Vito's jaw was a fucking jumbled up mess now.

Thinking fast, Vito opened his palms and faced them toward the ground. With his X-Gloves, he released a condensed swirling tornado of flames, just big enough and bright enough to prompt Iemitsu to take a step back and shield his eyes. In the usual way Brasi seemed to instinctively know what new shape to morph into to work in tandem with Vito, the bulldog hung onto Iemitsu's shoulders and transformed into a crumpled parachute, the same kind Vito wore back during the war.

Raising his arms, Vito let the burst of flame envelop Iemitsu. The Brasi parachute snapped open behind Iemitsu with the connecting suspension lines wrapping around his torso. The giant influx of hot air sent Brasi soaring into the sky, Iemitsu following as he screeched in surprise during the whole trip.

Once Iemitsu was just a twinkle in the sky, Vito felt all of his flames disperse into nothing. He fell forward with his face flat against the floor.

He was fucking exhausted. He thought sparring and throwing punches with Iemitsu would have been therapeutic, not leaving him half-dead with too many broken teeth and other shit to count.

As Vito inhaled rock dust and started coughing, he turned his body to lie on his back. Opening his eyes to the soft blue sky, Vito could see in the corner of his vision Joe in his wheelchair push himself to his best friend's side.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Joe murmured with a barely concealed snicker. "You look like – well, ya know."

"Like shit," Vito finished for him. It was still weird hearing Joe censor himself. Lal must have been one hell of a tutor.

She didn't have jack on Reborn, though.

The Arcobaleno in question stood on Mama's shoulder. Vito could see the uncomfortable look on Mama's face as she walked up to Vito and Joe. She didn't like seeing her baby boy get beat up so much, but this was neither the first spar she's seen him in nor the worst injuries he's gotten this week. The fact that it was Iemitsu whom Vito was duking it out with might have something to do with her compliance up to this point. Father and son were sort of bonding, in a way.

Vito still wouldn't call him "father," though, even if Mama keeps looking disapprovingly at Vito whenever he refers to Iemitsu by his first name.

"You have finally won your first sparring match against Iemitsu," Reborn said as he pretty much glowed in a yellow light. "Even if it's by ring-out, you get one accelerated heal, just as we agreed upon."

And the it'll be the only Sun Flame heal Vito will be getting. Reborn and Iemitsu didn't want to "spoil" him too much.

In just a few short minutes, Vito was well enough to sit up straight and stretch his arms with only slight winces. At least his pain tolerance was improving. That and his manipulation of his Sky Flames. That Zero Point who-duzit technique that Iemitsu was hellbent on teaching Vito still gave him trouble, but he was sure he'll figure it out eventually.

Straightening his jaw with an audible crack, Mama held a glass of lemonade toward him. Not his favorite drink, but it might as well have been dope and morphine mixed together since it always renewed his confidence and alleviated the muscle aches.

"You should take a break for the rest of the day, Tsuna," Mama suggested as she also gave Joe his own lemonade. "You've been working hard all week, so you deserve a reprieve. Basil-kun also said he'd be ready to train with you as your sparring partner, so you can start refreshed and anew tomorrow."

Joe was smirking. "It'll just be like all old times, back when old man Monara showed us how to box when we were kids," is what he'd probably have said if Mama wasn't around. She and Iemitsu still didn't know about the whole reincarnation deal, and they wouldn't for a while if Vito had anything to say about it.

Vito's training ground was situated atop a mountain, just outside the same place the usual gang had gone to for the camping trip with Dino, the trip that had turned sideways real fast. Among the forest trees over the end of the cliffside, an explosion went off. Vito guessed Gokudera was still hard at work, too. Vito had to give the guy credit, letting his precious boss get beat up ten times over day and night. When push came to shove, Gokudera still knew when to follow orders.

"I'll get Hayato-kun and Shamal-san their share of the lemonade," Mama said. She sauntered away. Vito and Reborn shared a short look before the hitman moved away and began dialing numbers on his phone. Joe reached out a hand and helped pull Vito up. After stuffing his X-Gloves – now morphed back into mittens – into his back pocket, Vito pushed Joe to their little campsite, beside the tents and the campfire. Vito checked the pot over the fire. From the smell of things, the soup was almost ready.

"So where were we before?" Vito asked as he snatched a wooden spoon to stir inside the pot. In between the spars, he and Joe have been catching up on what the other has been up to in this new life of theirs. "The time Lal caught you with your pants down, or the time an illusionist made you French kiss a stop sign?"

"Screw you," Joe said out of good humor. He took a sip from his cup of lemonade from a little straw. "We were talking about Earth Flames. Right? How I've got them and stuff."

Right. Earth Flames. And the Simon Family.

"I was about seven or eight when I met Makoto Kozato," Joe explained. "He and Iemitsu were working on some job together. Lal used to teach me about Rain Flames, but Kozato knew right away that I had Earth Flames. Must've just been randomly born with 'em, I guess, since they ran tests and made sure I didn't have any Simon blood in me. Iemitsu made a deal so that Kozato would show me how to use my Flames. Don't know jack about making blackholes, but I can kinda push and pull stuff if I concentrate hard enough. I prefer the old-fashioned guns, though."

Vito preferred guns and old-fashioned punching and brawling, too, but relying on those alone wouldn't get anyone too far with how intimately the mafia in this world was built on Flames. "So you've never met Enma or Mami? Have no idea what they've been up to?"

"I've heard their names, but it's someone else's job in CEDEF to keep track of the Simon Family, so I never looked into them." Joe cleared his thought and inclined his head toward Vito. "You met them when you ran off from home, right? Who are they to you?"

"They're my family," Vito answered without any hesitation. "I was pretty messed up when I was younger. Couldn't stop fucking dreaming about our old lives. Kept reliving my stint in prison, seeing Henry get killed; stuff like that. Drove me insane, so I left Namimori, tried to find something that would get me to stop thinking about everything we went through. Then, I ran into the Kozatos. We only spent time as a family for six months, but it was the best damn six months I've ever had, in this life or the last one."

Joe snorted. "If they're who you call family, what does that make me? Should I be jealous?" he joked lightly.

"I wasn't jealous of Marty," Vito said. At the mention of the kid, Joe's lips flattened into a thin line. He glanced at his drink. "He had an annoying voice, but he was still a kid, and you cared about him. You wanted to show him the ropes, teach him how to get the big bucks while being deserving of respect. It was the same for me, Mami, and Enma."

Even though Vito hardly knew Marty, Joe had pretty much grown up with him. Marty was there to help Joe out periodically when Vito was dodging bullets in Italy or boxing schmucks in prison. It hit Joe hard after Marty got killed, and Vito ended up having to pull Joe out of a few drunken or rage-fueled jams afterward.

"I don't know where I'd be today if CEDEF wasn't there for me," Joe suddenly said. "Pulled my ass out of the fire more times than I can count. I'd call them my family, too. Same goes for you, Vito. Don't care what anybody says. We're brothers." Joe clasped a hand on Vito's shoulder and offered him a smile. "I'll try talking with some of our boys back in Italy. Maybe talk to Iemitsu, even. If the Kozatos were there for you, then I think you oughtta know how they've been doing for themselves this whole time."

Vito returned the smile. "So, you're not jealous?"

"Jealous about what? Hey, if Enma and Mami are your family, then they're practically mine, too." Joe looked at something behind Vito before returning his attention back to him. "Maybe think about making some peace with Iemitsu, while we're at it. I get that you don't like him, but it's getting freakin' awkward with having yous two's pissing contest all the time, and Iemitsu signs my paychecks."

Fine. Iemitsu saved Joe's life back when he was just a kid in this world. Even if Iemitsu didn't know how much Joe means to Vito, Vito can lay down on some of the hostility.

It had to be a two-way street, though, and Vito axed all thoughts on making any peace when he heard Iemitsu walk up from behind them and open his mouth.

"The Simon Family will never forgive the Vongola for what Primo did to Cozarto Simon," Iemitsu said as he strung his arm around, stretching. "Makoto Kozato only wanted to use you as a weapon against the Vongola, Tsuna; a weapon to be used by his real son, Enma. While they aren't currently our enemies, you should focus on your own inheritance and your own future instead of clinging onto your obsession on reuniting with the Kozatos. In all likelihood, they will only take advantage of that compassion if you do meet them again."

Iemitsu didn't know the first fucking thing about Enma. However, because Mama and Reborn were coming their way and because Joe had the decency to give Iemitsu the stink eye, Vito didn't say anything. Neither Vito nor Iemitsu have won any of the arguments they've had this past week, and it wasn't just Joe whose nerves were getting frayed from them.

"These Kozatos can't be all bad if Vito's so vehement on a reunion," Mama chimed in, which kind of surprised Vito. She checked the soup pot and went to get the bowls and utensils from one of the tents. Her eyes met Iemitsu's for a brief moment. "Tsuna will always be our son. Letting him have some closure with the people who kept him safe when he went missing won't change that."

Mama quickly turned away. The look on Iemitsu's face said that he wanted to say something to her, but he neglected to do anything.

"Speaking of family matters," Reborn spoke up, "Tsuna, what have you learned about Xanxus through your studies?"

Between the boxing matches with Iemitsu, Reborn was having Vito read up on old CEDEF reports and other documents about Xanxus and the Varia. Vito was surprised by how much paperwork the Vongola seemed to keep, but the crime family must be too big to work without that much filing.

"Guy's got anger issues like a redheaded midget," Vito said. Mama and Iemitsu frowned at him, but Vito ignored them. "He uses his own brand of X-Guns that fire Dying Will Flames. He doesn't know the Zero Point stuff, so he compensates by packing a lot of fire power. Sky Flame harmonizes with Storm to make Flame of Wrath, right?"

"Are you right?" Reborn challenged. "A good mafia boss should be well aware of what permutations and combinations the various Dying Will Flames can take shape as."

Vito rolled his eyes. "Xanxus also ran his own coup against the Ninth ten-odd years ago. That's how he got himself frozen in the first place." Crossing his arms and adopting a contemplative stance, Vito asked, "Did Xanxus know your first student, Reborn? Maybe he taught Xanxus some tricks that you might know about."

Really, Vito was trying to fish for more info on Reborn's first student, who he still hasn't named or spoken too much more about. Unfortunately, Reborn saw right through Vito's play immediately. "Xanxus had inspirational examples to base his own rebellion on, but where he excels in brute strength and a fine familiarity with mafia politics, he lacked the finesse and tactical prowess to follow through. The ideal strategy to defeat Xanxus in the coming battles is to outwit him, much like how you defeated Iemitsu in today's spar."

"Reborn is right," Iemitsu added. "Outmaneuvering Xanxus is your best bet. It has been at least a month since Nono unfroze Xanxus, and my agents say that he has been hard at work training himself. He is much more precise with his X-Guns now, though I'm sure you are the better marksman."

Vito smiled. That was one thing he beat Iemitsu fair and square at without any flame powers involved. "Last I checked, Xanxus ain't got a shape-shifting bulldog on his side, so if we're talking about outsmarting Xanxus, it'll be a piece of cake."

"Watch that overconfidence, Tsuna," Iemitsu berated, which prompted Vito to roll his eyes again. "Don't act so dismissive. All of Nono's sons – Enrico, Massimo, Federico – shared conceited and cocksure attitudes toward the world because of their Vongola blood. And I watched each and every one of them die from idiotic and avoidable mistakes on their part. Xanxus' time being frozen has likely humbled him. You need to humble yourself as well. By the end of these Ring Battles, I don't want to be attending another funeral."

"Don't be so dramatic," Vito snorted. "Have you seen what Brasi can do? I bet you he can –" Vito stopped himself short as looked around the campsite. "Where Brasi? Didn't he come back with you?"

"When we landed and he returned to his dog form," Iemitsu explained, "he started sniffing in the air and ran off. He's the offspring of Leon, so I assume he can take care of himself."

As if on cue, Vito saw Brasi in the distance hop up from below the edge of the mountain. He trotted toward Vito, a small wooden branch being held in the dog's mouth.

"The heck is that supposed to be?" Joe questioned as he pointed at the end of the branch.

Of all things that there could've been, it was red necktie that was wrapped around the piece of wood. Something off was about the color of the tie, though.

Mama held her hands over her mouth as she gasped and took a step back. Reborn drew his Leon gun out, and Iemitsu was back in Hyper Dying Will Mode. Reborn and Iemitsu were spinning their heads around, looking intently at their surroundings.

Then Vito saw the trail of red splotches dripping from the tie. It wasn't naturally colored red and instead drenched in blood.

"What the hell?" Vito murmured. He didn't know what to say when Brasi sat in front of him and held the branch up, as if he wanted to Vito to take the tie.

"We are being watched," Reborn announced. "You need to train your agents better, Iemitsu. I called them not more than fifteen minutes ago, and they claimed that the perimeter was secure and untouched by any intruders."

"Is this some sort of taunt from the Varia?" Vito asked, pointedly not laying a single finger on the tie. "Whose blood is that?"

"The Varia must have figured out the rings they obtained are fakes sooner than expected," Iemitsu said. He glanced at Reborn before turning to Vito. "Xanxus seems to be taking after Reborn's first student more than we thought. He was also a professional hitman. For special hits, neckties dipped in rat's blood were Reborn's first student's calling card."

X

Technically, Fuuta was supposed to be asleep in bed by this hour. However, Tsuna-nii and Mama weren't around to make him go to sleep, and Hana-nee and Haru-nee were busy getting self-defense training from I-Pin and Bianchi. So, Fuuta was free to bring the last batch of mint chocolate chip ice cream up to Tsuna-nii's room and to watch Mochida-senpai train with the future version of Lambo.

Tsuna-nii had to go out to the mountains for his training. Fuuta guessed that was because he was the boss. Since Mochida-senpai was still technically only the rank of associate, it made sense that his training was a lot more simpler and could be done at home.

"Fucking shit!" Mochida-senpai screamed as a spark of green lightning ran up his hand and up his arm. He jumped back and rubbed his shoulder.

"Such an unclean mouth on you, Kensuke," Lambo drawled out, sitting across from Mochida-senpai. Lambo yawned and picked at his ear. "I forgot how much you used to spend around Tsuna-nii. I suppose now is about the time you start using the same language as him. Honestly, I prefer your future self. You are much more professional and mindful of what you say."

Mochida-senpai narrowed a glare at Lambo, but the glare wasn't as scary as Fuuta expected. Senpai was very new to the mafia, so he was probably still getting used to the idea of green fire creating green lightning. Older people had a harder time understanding how things like that worked and made perfect sense.

"Are you going to keep comparing me to my future self," Mochida said through gritted teeth, "or are you actually going to teach me how to use my Flames like Vito said you would?"

Lambo shrugged. "The young Vongola in this era has no real authority over me. I answer only to the Vongola Decimo in my time period." Lambo glanced at Fuuta. "And to my favorite older brother."

Struck by a surge of pride at the older Lambo speaking so reverently of him, Fuuta blushed and ducked his head. One day, Fuuta wanted to be just as big and strong and respectable as Lambo basically just confirmed that that's what will happen. Fuuta looked up again and offered the bucket of ice cream in his hands, as a show of gratitude. Lambo shook his head.

"Honestly, Kensuke, my time would be better spent training Fuuta-kun since you'll more or less get enough tutoring from Takeshi and other Lightning Flame users."

"I think you should stop using my first name, Bovino," Mochida grunted as he turned his glare to Fuuta. "And you're supposed to be asleep." Standing up, Mochida snatched the bucket of ice cream out of Fuuta's arms.

"That's mine, Mochida-senpai!" Fuuta whined. He tried to snatch the bucket back, but Mochida-senpai was too tall. Fuuta couldn't even hop off the bed to reach his ice cream, since senpai held the bucket high over his head.

"Vito says that you have to sleep," Mochida-senpai said sharply, "then you go to sleep. Since you're his brother, Vito will probably let you off easy. Can't say the same about me."

Fuuta stopped his attempts to take back his mint chocolate chip. He felt conflicted now. He wanted to stay up and share the ice cream with Lambo, maybe get some official training from him. But Mochida-senpai was supposed to be the one being trained while Fuuta slept. Mochida-senpai wasn't the Lightning Guardian, but he was still a combative member of the family while Fuuta was still technically a civilian barring his ranking abilities.

Mochida-senpai should be the priority. Why couldn't Fuuta have been born with a stronger affinity with Flames? Then he could be fighting on the front lines instead of Lambo and more actively helping Tsuna-nii.

"The cute pout schtick works on the Sasagawa-san and Miura-san," Mochida-senpai said. Was Fuuta making a cute pout? Were cute pouts something he can use to his advantage? "Not on me. Go to sleep, or I'll ask Bianchi-san to poison the muffins Miura-san baked."

"No!" Fuuta gasped. He tripped and fell on his bottom, too stunned at the threat to stay standing. "But Mochida-senpai! Those muffins are for Lambo and I-Pin! Haru-nee needs taste testers for when she bakes more for Tsuna-nii!"

"I don't care. Go to sleep."

From behind Mochida-senpai, Lambo let out a weary sigh. He stood up and stole the ice cream container from senpai. "You're no fun, Kensuke-senpai," Lambo said as he swallowed a spoonful of ice cream. Mochida-senpai was glaring back at him now. Lambo gave Fuuta a wink. "Stay true to that altruistic attitude of yours, Fuuta-nii. We are all far from innocent by my time, but simple acts of kindness can go a long way for one's character."

Before Fuuta could ask Lambo what "altruistic" meant, the lights suddenly went off. The sound of the TV from downstairs stopped, too. There was only the bull-shaped nightlight Mama had gotten as a present for Lambo plugged into an outlet to illuminate Tsuna-nii's room.

"Ah," Lambo let out a calm breath, "I almost forgot about this." He shoved something into Mochida-senpai's hand. Fuuta couldn't see a whole lot except for the brief shine of metal as light reflected off the object. "Here's an early birthday present. Works just like Takeshi-nii's sword."

A crash sounded off from downstairs, along with an unfamiliar shriek. The scream was almost drowned about by a battle cry from I-Pin, terrified shrieks from Haru-ne and Hana-nee, and Bianchi shouting, "Poison Cooking: Black Diamond Edition!"

Why was Bianchi using one of her poison cooking attacks when older Lambo was upstairs? Fuuta was about to ask that question aloud when someone noisily broke through the window. A black blur dashed through the room before flash of green light blinded Fuuta. Another unfamiliar voice started screeching in pain. Fuuta had to cover his ears since the sound was so sharp.

When Fuuta could see again, what he saw made him flinch and grab his wrist. He had only met the Varia Lightning Strike Squad once, but he recognized the uniform of the intruder immediately. Someone with a mask and a coat like that broke Fuuta's arm before. If Fuuta's uncle hadn't been there and negotiated a ceasefire with the Varia...

Instinctively, Fuuta hid behind Mochida-senpai. Senpai draped a protective arm around Fuuta as they backed away toward the door. Lambo was wearing his horns that were surging and beating with Lightning Flames while the Varia assassin lay on the floor twitching.

"It doesn't get any easier from here," Lambo called out as he snapped his fingers to send another shock across the Varia person. "But you know what they say. Misery loves company."

Then Lambo exploded in a puff of pink smoke. The original Lambo returned in his older self's place. He was asleep with a snot bubble being blown out of his nose. When the Varia Strike Squad person tried reaching his hand toward his baton weapon a few feet away, Mochida-senpai grabbed Lambo by his hair and dropped him in Fuuta's arms.

Fuuta turned away and left the room, carrying the sleeping Lambo with him. Senpai was stabbing the assassin with the knife-pencil thing the older Lambo had given him, and the last thing Fuuta saw a shivving scene like that was in one of the illusions Mukuro Rokudo had put on him. Fuuta didn't need to see anything like that ever again.

Mochida-senpai was just being a good associate for Tsuna-nii's family, though, eliminating a threat to the family. Can Fuuta really do the same once he's older? Stabbing someone to death? He couldn't even shoot Tsuna-nii's dad when he thought Tsuna-nii was an intruder. That was a good thing since Tsuna-nii's dad wasn't a real intruder, but –

Fuuta barely took three steps into the hallway when, between all the screaming coming all around the house, he heard the sound of a body hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Turning his head, Fuuta stared at the headless form of another Lighting Strike Squad assassin. The head was sitting against a wall. It was dark without any of the lights on, but some of the shine from the moon through a window and the light from Tsuna's room shone enough for Fuuta to make out most of what was in front of him.

Fuuta desperately wished Mama or Tsuna-nii were here. Tonight was supposed to be a fun sleepover. Instead, tonight was turning out just like his seventh birthday.

Someone picked up Fuuta and Lambo with one arm. Once Fuuta finally managed to turn his gaze away from the headless corpse, he saw Takeshi-nii looking with concern at the two kids.

"You okay, Fuuta?" Takeshi-nii asked. Fuuta couldn't find his voice, so he just nodded and hugged him. Fuuta could see some blood splashed along the sword Takeshi was holding.

Panting heavily, Mochida-senpai entered the hallway with shaky steps and approached them. "Yamamoto? The hell are you doing here?"

"Vito called," Takeshi-nii answered. "He said that the Varia are in Japan early. I came by to help make sure everyone was alright."

"What, you and Vito don't trust me to get the job done?" Fuuta could hear a slight stutter in Mochida-senpai's voice. He was also whispering, "Did you cut that guy's fucking head off?"

"Maa, Mochida, don't take it personally." Fuuta, still holding onto Lambo, felt himself be gently placed in the grip of Mochida-senpai's arms. "Here. My dad and Bianchi took care of the last assassins. Stay with them. Keep the kids and the girls safe."

"What about you?"

Fuuta was starting to smell the blood. Mochida-senpai's shirt was caked in it. He moved his head away from Mochida-senpai's chest and ended up see a small glint from Takeshi-nii's toothy smile. "Tsuna called up all of his Guardians," Takeshi-nii said. "The Varia are here in Japan. According to Tsuna, we're going to have a face-off."

X

This was bad. Iemitsu had naturally suspected Xanxus, Squalo, or Mammon would be able to see through the fake Vongola Rings in time, but he did not expect them to mobilize their forces so quickly. He shouldn't have sent Lal back to Italy early. While she may have seemed distracted around Basil for reasons Iemitsu hadn't yet discerned, her presence would have helped discourage the Varia's agents from attempting any more taunts or assassination attempts. If the Poison Scorpion and Tsuyoshi weren't as skilled and fastidious as they were, there may have been worse casualties inflicted in the Sawada house.

Iemitsu could only imagine how emotionally unstable Tsuna would be if any of his girlfriends or his little siblings were killed. Xanxus would surely defeat an off-kilter Tsuna. Thankfully, no one except the Varia Lightning Strike Squad members died tonight, and the failed hits appeared to only strengthen Tsuna's resolve.

At least, that is what Iemitsu assumed what Tsuna was experiencing behind that expressionless face. Iemitsu was too busy piloting the helicopter to get a better look. Reborn must be rubbing off him. Reborn sat opposite Tsuna, and they nearly mirrored each other with their heads tilted downward with their respective fedoras partially shielding their eyes.

Iemitsu opted to use the helicopter to get back to Namimori proper in a quarter the time than had they traveled by foot. They picked up Hayato Gokudera – who insisted to sit in the co-pilot seat "as Don Vittorio's representative" despite the teenager's complete lack of knowledge on how to pilot a helicopter – and left Shamal to protect Basil and Nana from any other potential attacks. Basil has worked with Shamal before and would be able to keep him from doing anything lecherous with Iemitsu's wife, so Iemitsu felt free to worry more about what other dirty moves the Varia might play.

"We're almost to your school," Iemitsu announced to his passengers.

"Namimori Middle?" inquired Tsuna. Those were his first words since kissing his mother goodbye on the cheek and entering the helicopter. "Don't land there. Head to the Namimori Shrine."

Why would Tsuna ask to go there? "The Shrine is farther away from our house than the school. We can get home faster if I land on Namimori Middle's roof."

"We're not heading home or toward Hibari's turf," Tsuna corrected. He held up his phone. "I already called up the Guardians. Except for Lambo, they're heading there, too. It'd be nice to know who my Mist Guardian's supposed to be, so that I can tell 'em what I have in mind for the Varia."

Telling Tsuna about Mukuro Rokudo and the girl he's partially possessing right now would only distract him. "What good will reconvening at the Namimori Shrine do?"

"Tsuyoshi and Bianchi can hold the fort at home. The Shrine is neutral ground. Everyone in town knows not to do anything illicit in that area. If the Varia try anything again there before you can start officiating the Ring Battles, then that's gives us all free reign to kick their asses."

While Iemitsu opted to redirect their course to the shrine, he shook his head as he processed Tsuna's words. "That's not how the Ring Battles work. Xanxus might have the authority to order hits on individuals affiliated with the Vongola Family but not formally an official member," such as in the case of the Ranking Prince, whose adoption paperwork Iemitsu should really push on once the battles are over to appease Nana, "but he knows going directly after you and your Guardians will cost him his candidacy. Even if he does do something so overt to bypass the Battles, the Vongola doesn't recognize any of the authority the gangs in Namimori may claim. Not even your gang, Tsuna. If they make any move against Xanxus or his Guardians, the Varia will have free reign to go to war."

At first, Tsuna frowned. Then he wore a smirk that Iemitsu has seen on Federico Vongola far more times than he could count. The rumors said that Federico died with that smirk on his face before his entire body was reduced to bone. Iemitsu desperately hoped Tsunayoshi wouldn't be following a similar fate.

"It won't be the first war I've been in," Tsuna said in a smug tone. Iemitsu was reminded of Basil for a moment. It sounded like Tsuna was half-joking with his words. Definitely an inside joke of which its significance was beyond Iemitsu's understanding.

As Tsuna had proclaimed, his teenage Guardians were waiting at the base of the small hill near the shrine. Ryohei was shadow boxing the air while Kyoya Hibari lounged in the grass a good distance away from him. The Hibari's lackey and Tsuna's lieutenant Tetsuya Kusakabe was also present, sitting on the stairway up to the shrine and on his phone. Tsuyoshi's son Takeshi was waving up at the helicopter. When they landed, Hayato declared that he was going to secure the perimeter. Takeshi said that he had already done just that, and an argument between the two ensued.

There was a small quiver to each movement Takeshi made, to each word that came out of his mouth. It wasn't the cold that was the cause of that, and those red gashes along his shirt he was hiding under his jacket told Iemitsu everything he needed to know. Iemitsu wondered what Tsuyoshi will have to say when he discovers how his son became a murderer tonight, or what Iemitsu will say once Tsuna secures his very first kill.

"For the love of God," Tsuna drawled in a tired voice as he stepped off the helicopter with Reborn on his shoulder, "will you two ever stop it with the back-and-forth some day? It's bad enough when Ryohei gets into fights with Hibari, but you ain't doing yourself any favors in becoming my right-hand man, Gokudera, or in getting that pay-raise to attend all those baseball games in America, Takeshi."

Tsuna's Rain and Storm Guardians reacted differently to the reprimands. Hayato assumed a submissive position and begged for forgiveness. Takeshi scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously.

That little habitual motion of Takeshi's practiced a thousand times over gave away the stains on his shirt. The very second Takeshi raised his arm, Tsuna's gaze sharpened as he asked, "Whose blood is that?"

Kusakabe intervened before Takeshi could explain. Holding up his phone as he ran toward Tsuna, Kyoya Hibari's right-hand man said, "Ichiro's brother Saburo spotted more men in black coats hopping across rooftops upriver. They'll be here in seconds."

Breaking off his glare with Takeshi, Tsuna gave Kusakabe a nod. "Good. You see how much more coordinated we are now that you're working for me, don't you?"

Kusakabe made a hand gesture of slicing off his own neck, likely not wanting to get into the topic of the NDC's merging into Tsuna's gang with Kyoya Hibari nearby.

"Alright!" Tsuna yelled at the top of his lungs. All eyes were on him now. "Kusakabe, Iemitsu, you can stand aside. Reborn, Hibari, you keep doing your own things." The Cloud Guardian lackadaisically yawned. Tsuna took a step toward the staircase and put a hand in the pocket where he was keeping the handgun form of Brasi. "Rest of you, stand with me."

Iemitsu and the others obliged Tsuna's orders. Reborn moved to stand on Iemitsu's shoulders. "Tsuna has grown to tolerate your presence," the hitman said, of course not revealing any indication that seeing the bloodied necktie this morning shook him as much as did shake Iemitsu. "Whether or not he will develop a positive opinion on you remains to be seen."

"He'll come around," Iemitsu affirmed plainly. "He grew to like you, and vice versa, didn't he?"

"He needed a teacher," Reborn said. "A confidant. Someone outside the chain of command of his crime family. He cherishes his mother and the children he has adopted in all but name, but he has no need for a father."

"Tsunayoshi is still a child himself," Iemitsu emphasized. Everyone needed a father. That's partially why he took Basil into CEDEF in the first place. "Incredibly skilled and naturally talented, but still inexperienced. He still has a lot to learn. Once the Ring Conflict is settled, and my business with CEDEF concluded, I'll be taking over his training. There will be plenty of time for the two of us to finally reach an understanding."

Ever so subtly, Reborn lifted the brim of his hat to give Iemitsu a sidelong look. "Tsuna resembles my first student in many ways," Reborn said, which nearly made Iemitsu's heart skip a beat. "I made too many mistakes with Federico Vongola. I failed to see what he really was. I was too obsessed with my own deluded vision of what I wanted him to be. With whatever happens with Tsuna, don't make the same mistakes I made. Be a good father, a considerate teacher, but realize who he is and what he wants to accomplish. Until you do, neither of you will ever understand one another."

Reborn rarely referred to Federico by name or admitted to him having been his first student nowadays. Federico had taken a different name when he began his rebellion, but the Ninth had banned it from being spoken in reference to him ever again. "Timoteo may have been the one to assign you this job," Iemitsu slowly said, "but regardless of his Vongola blood, Tsuna is my son. I appreciate everything that you've done for him, Reborn, and for me. Between the two of us overseeing his training, I foresee Tsuna becoming the boss to surpass Primo himself in power and infamy. He wouldn't be capable of that if you weren't there for him when I wasn't, so for all that it's worth, thank you."

Finally, the Varia made their dramatic entrance. Squalo, Levi, Belphegor, Lussuria, Viper, and the Gola Mosca all lined up atop the roof of the shrine. Squalo in particular traded a few taunts with Tsuna and Takeshi.

When Xanxus pushed through his subordinates and made his appearance, Iemitsu went to silently grab his pick axe from the helicopter. Xanxus would likely bring out the Flame of Wrath in a play to frighten Tsuna and his friends. It would obviously fail, but Tsuna would likely consider the sole action of producing the destructive flame as reason enough to counterattack. Iemitsu had to bring out Timoteo's letter and start explaining the situation before –

The deafening reverberations of rapid-fire gunshots rang out and made Iemitsu instinctively enter Hyper Dying Will Mode. His Dying Will Flame blazing brightly across his forehead, Iemitsu watched the Varia be bombarded by hundreds upon hundreds of bullets. Iemitsu traced where the bullets were being fired from and saw muzzle flashes from various points across the area. Behind sets of trees, behind a small bridge over the river, and around the corner of an outhouse were machine guns each being operated by a pair gunners.

Those were MG-42 machine guns. The only reason Iemitsu recognized the model was because Federico had used one in a joint job between CEDEF, the Vongola Family, and the Giglio Nero Family so many years ago.

Archaic Second World War munitions wouldn't deal any lasting damage to the Varia, even if they were caught unawares. Regardless, Iemitsu took one step forward to put a stop to the shooting. He only hesitated when Reborn spoke into his ear.

"Your charitable expunging of the local Yakuza's most recent hideout did not go unnoticed by Tsuna," Reborn said. "Your actions disrupted their weapons smuggling operation. They sought vengeance, so Tsuna had Hayato Gokudera and the NDC plant evidence to implicate the Varia. Between their training sessions, they concocted this plan to attack the Varia once they entered Namimori's borders."

Tsuna's gang and the Yakuza have always been on unpleasant terms. He must have used the Varia in an "enemy of enemy" play, only to further destabilize the Yakuza's strength and manpower within Namimori. Levi brought about a miniature thunderstorm to destroy one of the machine gun nests, Belphegor's knives unceremoniously decapitated a few gunners, and so on went the Varia members eliminating their attackers.

Tsuna and his Guardians also received a free, uninhibited view of the Varia at work. As the Vongola's best assassins, there did not exist any live footage showcasing their abilities and their aptitude with their Flames. Now, Tsuna and his friends had a better idea of what to expect in their upcoming fights.

Xanxus refrained from engaging in the slaughter himself. Instead, he stood with a straight back on the top of the staircase. With his black coat hanging off his shoulders floundering with the wind, Xanxus narrowed his gaze down to meet Tsuna's.

Tsuna held his Brasi gun out, a fine orange aura revolving around the transformed dog. Meanwhile, Xanxus let a fist hang by his hip with a piercing yellow-orange ball of fire seeping through his fingers.

The two of them were smiling at one another. They each had something the other wanted – the claim to the Vongola throne – and they were eager to see the better man win.

Well, as the sound of gunfire lessened, Iemitsu supposed now was as good a time as any to step in and begin the official proceedings for the Ring Conflict.

Then a couple of pink-haired, dark-skinned young ladies wearing black domino masks entered the scene. They revealed a document bearing Timoteo's unique Dying Will Seal and detailed their responsibilities as judges for the Ring Battles.

The seal was unmistakable, but Nono had agreed to let Iemitsu reign as the official judge for the Ring Conflict. Why did he change his mind, again? What was going on in that old man's head?

Maybe Iemitsu was too focused on the idealized image of the Ninth Boss of the Vongola he's nurtured for most of his criminal career. Perhaps a new change in management was what the Vonogla truly needed sooner rather than later if it was to survive to the next generation. Someone new that won't be so indecisive and erratic as Timoteo has acted lately, so bloodthirsty as Xanxus, or so narcissistic and obsessed as Federico Vongola.

The Conflict will end in Tsuna's favor. Xanxus will either submit to his boss's authority or join his brothers in the next life. The Varia will follow suit. Iemitsu will retire from CEDEF and assume the main brunt of Reborn's tutorship responsibilities, and both the Sawada Family and the Vongola Family will begin again better than ever.

It was up to Tsuna and his Guardians now to make that dream a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be mostly from the perspectives of Tsuna's Guardians before, during, and/or after their respective battles. After that, we'll probably be going back to Vito's POV for the remainder of the Varia Arc.
> 
> Updates for this story will likely become fewer and farther in between for the foreseeable future. However, I can probably make more time for one-shot chapters for "Barbaro Incorporated." If there's a particular character you'd like to read from the perspective of or a little story idea you want to see explored – more snippets of what's going on with the Simon Family, Vito's friends or businesses associates and their takes on the whole crime business, Joe's adventures with CEDEF, a TYL story, so on – then leave a review/comment/send me a PM and I'll see what I can do.
> 
> Until then, hope you're enjoying the story. Keep an eye out for the next chapter, "Balls and Beans." With any luck, it won't be too long a wait till I get that chapter ready.


	10. Balls and Beans

Like the extremely polite gentlemen that Ryohei has grown to become, the boxer downed his prescribed pills without any vocal complaints. True, his eyes became teary, his throat struggled to swallow the pills for longer than it should have taken, and his sweet little sister wasn't there to distract himself from the stress and the strain, but extremely swallow those pills he did!

"I don't get it," Mochida groaned from the chair he was lounging on beside Ryohei's cot. "You can handle punching your knuckles full force against solid fucking metal, but you can't freaking swallow a few pills without making it so dramatic?"

Once Ryohei coughed out the residual spit and stabilized his breathing, he shone a wide, toothy grin in Mochida's direction. He opened his mouth to exclaim a hearty, extreme response, but Mochida cut him off. "Don't. Don't say another word. Forget I said anything." Mochida hopped out of his seat and strolled to the window. "Extreme bullshit is what this is," he said under his breath as he stared at the night horizon. "First babysitting duty. Now I'm effin' boxer-sitting."

Ryohei could sympathize with Mochida. This wasn't the first time he was assigned the job of watching over Ryohei in the clinic while he recovered from a boxing match. Mochida had a low tolerance for Ryohei's preference for extreme mannerisms and language, like most people. Normally, Ryohei would continue to speak and behave however he wanted. Since the match with that flamboyant Lussuria fighter admittedly left Ryohei very physically drained, he quieted down a tad and left Mochida to his own devices.

It had been a draining fight, but it was definitely the toughest, most dangerous, most exhilarating fight Ryohei has ever had, bar none.

And Ryohei likely would never have been fortunate enough to have been a participant to such an experience if it weren't for Sawada.

It may have been Ryohei's dad who first showed him how to make a fist and to deliver a punch, but it was Sawada who taught him his first real boxing lessons. The right stance, the right equipment to use, the right footwork; without the foundation Sawada had established for him, Ryohei may have never become as a devout boxer as he is today. That's not even mentioning the abundance of boxing opportunities that he has had in the ring at the back of Kawahira's shop.

Sawada was also very apt in keeping Kyoko safe whilst letting Ryohei box to his heart's content. He wasn't half-bad in the ring either. Much more agreeable to spontaneous and unannounced boxing spars than Hibari, too, especially when his head and hair were extremely set on fire. Yes, Sawada was a very useful ally to keep in relatively good graces.

Sawada needed Ryohei Sasagawa to act as his "Sun Guardian" in these "Ring Battles" so that his inheritance for the title of "Vongola Decimo" was confirmed? Even without accounting for the thrilling match against Lussuria, Ryohei would have taken on the offer in a heartbeat. Sawada was smart, loyal friend. It only makes sense to behave as extremely as Ryohei can possibly be in kind.

Ryohei was beginning to doze off to sleep when Hana marched through the door. She had a phone pressed to her ear. "Yes, the doctor said he'll be fine," she was saying. "No, not that Shamal perv. A real doctor." Hana sighed as she held the phone away from the side of her head. She sent a cool look at Ryohei's direction. "You just had to bail on Kyoko just when you guys were going on vacation, huh? Do you know how many times she's called me? What even happened to your own phone?"

It was destroyed early on by accident during Colonnello's training, as unintended collateral. Ryohei would have said so if Hana didn't suddenly dump her phone on Ryohei's lap. "Get her to calm down and stop worrying about you," she said in her "obey me or you'll regret it" tutoring voice. It brought back old memories of her tutoring Ryohei, Yamamoto, and Sawada that made Ryohei smile. "Tsuna said you won't be getting in any more fights during this Ring Conflict business if he can help it, but he isn't answering his phone, so it's your job to convince her to start enjoying her vacation."

"I will do my best to extremely appease my cute little sister," Ryohei affirmed.

"Good." Hana stepped across the room quickly to stand beside Mochida. They exchanged a few words that Ryohei couldn't clearly make out. Something about "trying again to switch up the Lightning Rings regardless what Tsuna's dad says." Whatever was said, the two of them left the room, giving Ryohei free reign to speak as loudly and extremely as he wanted without risking anyone's ire.

"Kyoko-chan!" Ryohei greeted as he spoke on the phone. "Are you enjoying the sights in your American venture?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for a short breath. "Big brother," Kyoko groaned wearily. "You said you were going to fight to help with Tsuna's inheritance, not go off and nearly cripple yourself."

Ryohei felt his lips fall into a frown. They have talked about this a thousand times already. "There is always the risk of serious injury whenever I enter a fight. That will never change."

"No, but you never fought against an experienced, lethal assassin before."

"... Hana told you." Because Dino hadn't told her when he had picked Ryohei to help fight off the long-haired Varia, and Ryohei had expressly asked Sawada not to tell Kyoko if she ever called. It may have been simply delaying the inevitable when Ryohei had asked Sawada, but he wanted his sister to enjoy her vacation as much as she could without unnecessarily worrying about her older brother.

"And it's not just you, either," Kyoko continued. "Takeshi, Hayato, Tsuna – Why is Tsuna letting Lambo fight an adult?"

To Ryohei's understanding, Lambo was supposed to be fighting as a teenager during his Ring Battle. Ryohei didn't really understand how he would do that, but Sawada has yet to lead any of them astray so far, so Ryohei trusted Lambo would be fine. "Mochida has been helping extremely train Lambo," Ryohei said, "and it was Sawada's dad that decided to make Lambo fight. Sawada is only doing..." What did Sawada call it? "Damage control. He has a plan." Ryohei paused for a second. "Should we be talking about this over the phone?" Sawada was always paranoid about wiretapping.

"Our phones are fine. Hana said Tsuna made sure of it. But I just..." Kyoko was silent again for a short while. Ryohei couldn't even hear her breathe. He waited patiently for a response. Eventually, Kyoko exhaled a sigh over the line. "Just... try to remember to pace yourself, big brother," she implored. "You and the other boys do what you have to do to make sure Namimori doesn't get torn apart by another gang war. The one with the Kokuyo Gang wasn't that long ago, and I don't want to come home to see anyone bedridden again for a few months, or worse. Can you try to make sure that doesn't happen?"

Ryohei grinned widely. "Of course," he said. "You have nothing to extremely worry about, Kyoko. Once these battles are done and you have returned home, Namimori will belong to Sawada." Along with whatever being the "Vongola Decimo" entailed.

"Okay, then," Kyoko replied, finally starting to sound less perturbed and now more light-hearted. "I'll hold you to that, big brother. I'll hold Tsuna to it, too, in becoming the big, bad boss he always wanted to be."

Sawada was already a pretty good boss in Ryohei's opinion. "I trust Sawada won't fail your expectations. Now, tell me about your trip. How have the extreme streets and heights of New York City been to you?"

X

As Lambo closed one eye and pressed a hand against his fluffy hair, he raised the pistol in his hand and looked down the sight. A few feet away, I-Pin – still dressed in her white restaurant uniform since she forgot to pack a change of clothes – also held up her handgun pointed down the firing range.

The second that the automated targets started popping up and down, the gunshots echoed without abandon. They weren't allowed to wear the usual protective ear plugs for this session, so Lambo winced a little bit with each shot fired. Maybe as a child, he was more used to the loud bangs and booms of gunfire and explosion. Ever since his seventh birthday, however, his parental guardians had confiscated all of his guns and munitions. Since then, Lambo had to rely on his horns and lightning to defend himself with.

Honestly, Lambo is surprised it took them this long to let him hold a gun again. The Vongola Decimo and everyone else must have finally been pushed to their breaking points in this war with the Millefiore.

Once the buzzer sounded off it signify the end of the shooting round, Lambo and I-Pin simultaneously lowered their guns and faced the scoreboard.

Lambo scowled at his score. One point less than I-Pin's.

Sweet gal she might be, I-Pin had a smug smirk on her face as she jostled Lambo's arm with her elbow. "Better luck next time, Broccoli Monster," she jokingly teased.

Mentioning Lambo's childhood nickname turned his frown upside down. Chuckling, Lambo tickled I-Pin's side with the barrel of his handgun. "Maybe I just let you win today since I missed your little birthday party last week." Lambo had been given the job of baking the cake for I-Pin's fifteenth birthday. Since they were transitioning between safehouses at the time, Lambo didn't have the chance to –

Suddenly, Lambo's pistol was snatched out of his fingertips. When he turned around, someone punched his face with enough force to knock him down to the floor on his backside. Lambo caressed his nose, twitching as he felt his bruised skin and what had to be broken bone underneath the muscle and skin.

"Fuuta-nii?!" I-Pin cried out.

As Lambo rested on the ground and waited for the burst of pain to ease away, Fuuta Scaletta de la Stella stepped into his line of sight. Dressed in a dress shirt and a green vest with an undone tie hanging over his shoulders, Fuuta had a much more imposing height than his past self. They had the same shocked and embarrassed look with the gaping mouth, though.

"Oh, sorry!" Fuuta apologized quickly, waving his hands up placatingly. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard, Lambo. It's just that I've been staying with Kyoya and Adel-oba-san for so long, and I can't really hold back my strength at all around them during training, and –"

Lambo waved a reconciliatory hand. "It's fine," he grunted. His nose definitely hurt, but he's experienced much worse during more intense training sessions with blood-thirstier teachers.

"I'm thankful that you're helping familiarize us with guns again, Fuuta-nii," I-Pin said, "but that doesn't mean you should forget about own your discipline while you focus on us. You should always be aware of your own strength."

"Yeah, I know..." Fuuta trailed off, lowering his arms as he unloaded Lambo's gun of all its remaining bullets and placed them on a nearby table. "Still, though. You were pointing your pistol directly at I-Pin's back. One careless pull of the trigger, and that's all it would've taken to see I-Pin paralyzed from the waist down."

If Lambo had the strength, he would have shrugged. "My trigger discipline is fine," he argued for instead.

"And I have the speed to dodge out of the way from a bullet," I-Pin added. She kneeled before Lambo and helped him into a sitting position.

With a cough and his head ducked down, Fuuta commented, "It was point-blank range, I-Pin. You don't fight with Dying Will Flames. All it takes is one unlucky bullet to do something irreversible."

I-Pin opened her mouth to defend Lambo further, but Lambo waved his hand to cut her off. "Fine, fine," he said, a little exasperated. "I screwed up. I acted careless. I shouldn't have –"

Before Lambo could finish his sentence, Fuuta cut in, quickly saying, "I don't want what happened to Hana-nee to happen to anyone else."

Ah. So, Fuuta was still feeling sore and sorry about that particular misfire incident. Maybe Lambo should be more careful in his behavior today. A lot of nerves were strayed for the Vongola what with the mob war with the Millefiore going on, including for Fuuta with his responsibilities of keeping Lambo, I-Pin, and the civilian side of the family safe. The misfire incident a few weeks back didn't help Fuuta's mood any, so stirring up memories from that time now certainly won't help.

Lambo can't lie to himself. He was growing more and more impatient and stir-crazy by the day. He was the Vongola Decimo's Lighting Guardian for Christ's sake, and he was being kept completely out of the loop, out of the front lines. For his and I-Pin's "safety," under the Decimo's orders, so Fuuta had said, even though all three of them were more than competent fighters. They were experienced, skilled, and they were ready to help turn the tide in this war, yet the Decimo was keeping them locked away in an underground bunker, out of sight, out of mind.

Still, regardless of Lambo's frustrations, he shouldn't let it affect or bother Fuuta. He was only doing his job, trying to do his best in being a good little brother to the Decimo, and a good big brother for both I-Pin and Lambo.

Just as Lambo was about to stand up and more politely apologize to Fuuta, Lambo found himself shrouded in the familiar pink smoke that accompanied the travels back in time with the Ten Year Bazooka.

The smoke soon evaporated and gave way to dark, stormy rainfall. Lambo was sitting on the roof of the old Namimori Middle School building. The youthful Varia was gathered at one end of the roof while the young Vongola and his Guardians and other family members were situated opposite them. A pair of cute Cervello representatives were also there. With the past version of Levi standing directly across from Lambo's position, Lambo guessed that his was the Lightning Battle of the Ring Conflict. He was sent back here sooner than he thought he would be. He probably should have paid more attention to the dates and times and planned to be more mentally prepared for his.

"... should be an illegal move!" Squalo was yelling his lungs hoarse, as always. "Levi can easily squash anyone the Sawada brat chooses as his Lightning Guardian, but directly interfering by firing that bazooka –"

"Asshole tried to send his personal hit squad to kill Lambo before the battles even started," the young Vongola shouted back. He had the Ten Year Bazooka in his hands. "This is Lambo's handicap."

"There are no handicaps in the mafia, you –" Xanxus slugged a fist for the back of Squalo's head. Lambo was surprised he didn't throw a half-empty beer bottle instead. "VOIII! What was that for, you shitty boss?!"

"Just shut the fuck up, shitty swordsman," the Varia head shot back, "and let the battle play out."

As Lambo dusted himself off, ignored the aching from his nose, and pulled himself to his feet, one of the Cervello girls spoke up with, "The battle shall proceed as normal. Any more interference or interruption from either party will be admitting forfeit for the Lighting Vongola Ring."

"Good," the young Vongola said. He met Lambo's eyes and sent him a cocky smirk. "Give 'em hell, kid."

Yeah, and Lambo could use the opportunity to relieve some of his bottled-up stress here, too.

Once Lambo safely secured his lightning-absorbent horns on his head, Levi ranted for a bit about being a worthy and superior Guardian for his boss, or something to that effect. He hasn't changed a whole lot in ten years, both in personality and skill level. As such, after playing the evasion game with Levi's lightning strikes, Lambo correctly anticipated him utilizing his "Levi Volta" technique, circling his parabolas suspended in the air and surrounding Lambo. How predictable.

When the lightning bolts began their assault, Lambo stood still and took on the burst of overflowing energy head-on. He could feel the shocks travel sporadically along his limbs, across his nerves, and through his heart. Perhaps in another world, the power would be too much for a fifteen-year-old Lambo to withstand, but growing up how he did with the adopted family he had raising him – with the enemies who would enjoy seeing the Vongola and everything that it is devastated and destroyed – tolerating massive electric shocks were hardly the worse pains he has suffered in the past decade.

At least Lambo can handle physical pain. They were far more preferable and easier to heal from than emotional blues.

Sure, the shocks Levi sent ultimately forced Lambo to drop to a knee, and his clothes were utterly burnt, damp, and ruined, but Lambo wasn't knocked out quite yet. As Lambo let in and out steady breathes to recompose himself, he could see through the wet hair strands hanging over his forehead the image of Levi lunging for him. Levi gripped another umbrella with its ferrule forming a pointed edge, functionally a short sword, and aimed to thrust it through Lambo's chest.

Levi must be blinded by rage or desperation now. Banking on that emotional weakness, Lambo sidestepped the sword thrust and tackled Levi. While Levi has superior mass and muscle and Lambo was scrawnier and skinnier in comparison, Lambo powered on through. Wrapping his arms around Levi's lower back and stomach, Lambo lifted the assassin up. Levi's forward momentum pushed Lambo backward, and as both Lighting Flame users fell to the floor, Levi hit the ground before Lambo. He went face first, his teeth and other bones audibly cracking. It looked like Lambo won't be the only one dealing with a broken nose today.

Lambo quickly snatched one of Levi's parabolas. Before Levi could try to move out of the way, Lambo aimed to stab the man's spine. Though Lambo stuck blood, he failed to penetrate any further as Levi kicked the umbrella away and sent a haymaker across Lambo's cheek.

As Levi began gathering his parabolas for another coordinated lighting strike, Lambo stepped back, placed his dominant foot forward, crouched, and charged. Levi's attack struck Lambo, not at all halting Lambo's assault one bit. Carrying as much electric power that his body could hold, Lambo stabbed his horns into Levi's stomach. Then, a ginormous flash of green light followed.

By the time Lambo regained his vision, he was the one standing over Levi's unconscious, twitching, burnt body. Still breathing, since he was still alive in the future, but Lambo claimed one half of the Vongola Lightning Ring off Levi's person and formed the true ring with the other half belonging to Lambo's past self. Victory for Lambo.

The Cervello began carrying out the formal declarations of Lambo's win and forewarnings about the next battle. Once they and the Varia left with Levi's crispy body in tow, there was just enough time for the young Vongola and his family members to give Lambo brief farewells before he is sent back to the future.

"An extreme win, future cow child!" Ryohei yelled.

"You were straight badass, kid," Joe said. Or was he still going by Basil during this time? "You should be proud of yourself."

Chuckling, Takeshi said, "Yeah, those were some cool moves, Lambo."

"You won," Hayato said flatly, but Lambo could tell that he was hiding a smile. "You have fulfilled Don Vittorio's will. That is all that was expected of you."

The younger Kensuke was keeping his distance, maybe intimidated by Lambo's performance. Hana Kurokawa also held back. Lambo could see her blushing. He vaguely recalled that she once had a crush on him – the fifteen-year-old Lambo – at this age. Reborn and Iemitsu were too busy in conversation to bother with any congratulations. Perhaps they were discussing something about Lal Mirch's investigation on the Vongola Nono's mental state and his current whereabouts? That whole thing coincided with the Varia battles. Right?

The young Vongola shook Lambo's hand and pulled him into a brotherly hug. "Good job," he said. A very simple compliment, but this may be the very first time for the young Vongola to compliment Lambo, regardless of Lambo's age.

Lambo honestly missed that kind of simplicity, even when he wasn't old enough to fully appreciate it. With what happened at the end of the Ring Conflict, and the ramifications that happened afterward and in the years to come...

"Thank you," Lambo said before he could get too lost in thought.

He couldn't tell them any of the particulars of the future – even without the Decimo's decrees, Reborn and Iemitsu surely wouldn't let Lambo give away spoilers – but Lambo could try to give a little warning for his least favorite adoptive brother. Some charity might appease Lambo's karmic balance after stirring up bad memories in the older Fuuta.

"Oi, Hayato," Lambo said as he loudened his voice. Hayato looked surprised to be talked to. Not giving him a chance to get defensive or standoffish, Lambo said, "Don't feel too bad about the next battle. You may be disappointed by what happens in comparison to the other Guardians' battles, but you more than make up for it in the many future battles we'll have together."

With those last words, Lambo added a wink before disappearing into pink smoke.

X

Under orders from Don Vittorio himself, Hayato Gokudera forsook the bed rest Shamal had recommended to him and was instead standing tall and patiently waiting on the roof of the Don's tutoring center. He still had bandages for the all the cuts that bloodthirsty, self-proclaimed prince had inflicted on him, along with the limp from barely escaping that knife slash and the ensuing explosion.

The future Lambo may have warned him, and Don Vittorio may have specifically commanded Hayato to focus on preserving his own life over claiming the Storm Ring by the end of the struggle, but at the end of the day, Hayato lost the Ring Battle. He failed his boss, sullied his name, and hurt the reputation of the family.

The only reason Hayato was called here tonight was most likely for a reprimand, punishment, for his failures. Don Vittorio maintained the charming smiles during business negotiations and transactions like any good boss, but when it came to disciplining inept and unsuccessful subordinates – even loyal ones – there were only so many warnings one could get before a more permanent solution is decided upon.

Hayato should have fought harder. Been better. His resolve superior and unbreakable. He is supposed to become the Vongola Decimo's right-hand-man – Don Vittorio's underboss one day. Thus, Hayato should have never let a psychotic henchman like Belphegor get the best of him.

Finally, Hayato heard a door slam open and footsteps grow in volume behind him. Don Vittorio stopped beside Hayato. He offered a cigar, one from Kawahira's private storage. It could have been a conciliatory gift to boost Hayato's spirits or a last supper type of arrangement. Either way, Hayato took the cigar, let the Don light it, and basked in the ensuing smoke alongside Don Vittorio and the Don's own cigar. Together, they silently observed the midnight horizon of downtown Namimori, full of colorful lamp posts, traffic lights, brightly lit shop signs, and shining advertisement boards.

"Let me tell you a story about loyalty," Don Vittorio soon spoke, almost transfixed by the city lights. "There was this kid called Marty Santorelli. Had squeaky voice like freakin' Minnie Mouse. He watched too many movies when he was younger, got it in his head that he'd live the good life by being a mobster."

The Don let out a breath that was half a sigh and half a snicker. "Kid had no idea how bloody being a mobster was gonna be. How much it was gonna cost him. Who he could lose on the way."

Hayato didn't personally have a whole lot to lose by being a mobster, other than his pride, his life, and perhaps his sister.

"This fat-ass wise guy named Barbaro knew Marty," Don Vittorio went on. He was smirking now, perhaps at an inside joke private to him. "Marty looked up to him. He was like a little brother to Barbaro. Marty started out doing simple odd jobs for him; waxing his car, running goods down a few blocks, that sort of thing. Then, came the big job that would've meant big changes for his criminal career: assassinating Alberto Clemente, head of the Clemente Crime Family."

There was no existing Clemente Crime Family to Hayato's knowledge, past or present. Don Vittorio must be altering the name for the sake of discretion, or this is simply a vivid metaphorical story.

"Marty was supposed to be the getaway driver. Thing is, though, Barbaro and his partner Scaletta screwed up. Clemente made a break for it. Marty tried to stop him, but he got gunned down." Don Vittorio paused. A somber atmosphere permeated through the air. "They couldn't even give him a proper funeral. The body got caught on fire. No way to find his ashes in the mess."

Puffing out another mouthful of smoke, the Don continued, "Here's the thing, though. Marty was only there because of Barbaro. Getting a promotion was just a bonus. Helping out Barbaro – his friend, his brother – that's why Marty was there. Marty was loyal and looking out to help out a friend, someone he admired, and Marty died for that."

Don Vittorio turned his entire body to face Hayato. Hayato paid him the same respect. "I know that you've got the balls to die for me," the Don stated, "to make sacrifices for my own success. It can't just be about you working up the ranks for your own sake. There has to be more to it for why you're so loyal to me, especially when we were trying to murder each other when we first met."

He was asking for an honest answer. Even if Don Vittorio wasn't his boss and Hayato was outright obligated to respond in kind, Hayato felt that they've spent enough times together in tutoring sessions, body guard assignments, and group outings with the Don's friends that Hayato would have spoken honestly back regardless. Hayato didn't have a lot of friends to being with before meeting Don Vittorio.

"Most of my life," Hayato began gently, "I lived it feeling alone. That's not to say people didn't care about me, or tried to. I lived well enough, in a mansion in Italy, but I'm estranged to my blood father and my step mother. My biological mother – half-Italian, half-Japanese – passed away under... questionable circumstances." Any mafia member with passing knowledge on the business and language would know what Hayato was hinting at. "Shamal was an unorthodox teacher and a distant guardian, and Bianchi... You know how dysfunctional that relationship is."

"Can't say that I wish I had a sister like her," Vito agreed. "How do I come into this dynamic?"

"You saved my life when I tried to kill you," Hayato simply explained.

"That was my Dying Will Mode, though. I can't really control that. Back then, I mean, before Hyper Dying Will Mode was a thing I could do. You know that if I had my way, I would've killed you. I told you that."

"I know," Hayato said carefully, "but your Dying Will can't lie. At your core, you are a boss that prefers allies over enemies. I know that –" Hayato sighed. He broke Don Vittorio's gaze for a brief second to suppress his shame – "that I'm not very good at... reaching compromises with others."

"You mean like with Takeshi and Haru," Don Vittorio accurately guessed. "Your go-to usually is to threaten to blow people that you don't like up into smithereens."

Hayato nodded. "Yes. I have made many enemies in my short career as Smokin' Bomb Hayato. I may have eventually killed myself as I almost did when we first fought, but then you saved my life. It was mafia law that I become your subordinate, but as I worked for you, I saw what kind of boss you are. You build connections, a community; a family that stands united to overcome any and all obstacles thrown their way."

Suppressing the local Yakuza, providing protections services to shopkeepers, bribing favors from the police force, supporting the tutoring center, expunging the Kokuyo Gang, assisting with the assimilation of the Namimori Disciplinary Committee – life as a criminal associate and an eager solider to Don Vittorio's family was hardly an uneventful one.

"I didn't know until I began to reflect heavily on it recently," Hayato said, "but being an integral part of a strong, organized family is what I have been missing all these years. You are a good, caring boss, Don Vittorio, and while I have my issues with your other subordinates, I want to be an exemplary family member. I want to contribute to the success of your business enterprises, criminal or otherwise. My success means your success, and your success means good will for everyone in the family."

And the good will for the family will be Hayato's contributions to something greater than himself. The original assassination contract for Don Vittorio that Reborn had supplied was meant to be Hayato's first step in joining a greater organization to devote his skills toward. Hayato had no idea how fulfilling this kind of work could be in comparison to one-time freelance hit contracts. He hasn't looked back since.

Hayato bowed before Don Vittorio. He pressed his forehead against the rooftop floor. "Despite my failures earlier tonight," Hayato said, "please know that I am still yours to command. No matter what you ordain, I live to fulfil your will. For the family."

As he bowed, Hayato could feel the Don's eyes boring into his skull. Hayato may have ached as he forced his body and limbs to stick with the bow, but it was all minor discomfort whilst waiting for his boss to pass his judgement.

Don Vittorio laid his hand on Hayato's shoulder. He guided Hayato to his feet and offered an easygoing smile. "Follow me," he ordered, heading for the stairs.

The Don and Hayato made their way to the break room of the tutoring center. Furniture was pushed aside to clear a space for Kurokawa and Basil to test the waters for Kurokawa's Cloud Flame. They sat cross legged across from one another on a carpet.

"I still don't understand what the color purple has to do with clouds," Kurokawa remarked to Basil. Her Cloud Flame was flickering on her forehead. Switchblades identical to each other also bearing the flame were scattered around her, "or how Rain Flames are a thing."

"Hey, I didn't make 'em," Basil said defensively as drank from a bottle of whiskey. "I just know how they work."

"You don't even have a Cloud Flame."

"Doesn't mean Lal didn't kick my ass if I failed her tests on the ins and outs of Dying Will Flames. There's a reason I'm one of the External Advisors for the Vongola."

Don Vittorio whistled to catch their attention. He elbowed Hayato's side. "It's time," the Don said. "Tell him, Hana."

The girl's scowl did not soften when she turned to face Hayato. "I don't know what being the Vongola Storm Guardian exactly means in practical terms," she said, "but Tsuna thinks that whatever happens after these Battles, you earned a promotion."

A promotion? Not a dismissal from the family or a horrible execution? Hayato felt his heart beat harder in excitement and anticipation.

"I'm still the head tutor here," Kurokawa continued, "but Tsuna's guy who oversaw the trades between our stolen goods to dealers got arrested. He was also apparently embezzling from our legitimate profits, so Tsuna's letting him rot. He needs a replacement. You're him."

Wait. Don Vittorio had appointed one of his veteran lieutenants the task of fencing goods. Does that mean –"

"Congratulations, Hayato," Don Vittorio said. It was the first time he referred Hayato by his first name. "You're one of my capos now. Not quite my right-hand man, but hey, you're also my Storm Guardian, and earning two high-ranking positions ain't a half-bad turnabout."

No, it definitely wasn't. Hayato faced his boss and shared his grin. "Thank you, Don Vittorio!" he said. "I won't let you down!"

"I hope not." Then Don Vittorio nodded his head toward the back exit. "We'll go through the specifics of what being a capo for me means specifically later. For now, I need more practice with my Flames. Your Storm Flame isn't supposed to be as powerful as Xanxus' Wrath Flame, but it's the next best thing to practice on."

Playing a vitally important role in ensuring his boss is prepared to eliminate his unworthy rival for the Vongola Decimo title?

Hayato couldn't be happier.

X

Takeshi had been so worried about defeating Squalo and staying alive during the Rain match that he had completely forgotten that Squalo could have easily lost his own life, too.

It wasn't the quite first time Takeshi has directly caused someone to die before. There was that assassin who went into Tsuna's house. That was only a few days ago. Takeshi didn't even let the fact that he killed a man faze him at the time. He was too busy making sure the kids were safe and busy staying on the script of Vito's plans for beating the Varia. And with his dad training him, there wasn't a whole lot of time to sit back and really think on things with a clear head.

Killing that assassin was pure instinct. Letting Squalo die was a byproduct of winning the Rain Battle. Lots of people who work for Vito kill people.

But shouldn't being the reason someone died bother him more?

"Takeshi," dad called out to him. Takeshi was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his head resting on the palms of his hands. He usually kept his door closed, but he forgot to close it, letting dad waltz right in. "Are you sure you are fine to sleep here instead of the clinic?"

Maybe dad can help him out. He's already helped him plenty with the sword skills. "Dad," Takeshi said, "you were an assassin before you were a chef, right?"

The look on dad's face... Takeshi didn't know how to describe it. His dad was not at all comfortable with admitting what he used to be before building up TakeSushi. He never liked it when Takeshi brought it up after Vito had gotten Hayato to do a background check on "Tsuyoshi Yamamoto" for kicks. They barely even talked about it, not even during when his dad was training him.

Whatever was going on his dad's head, he pulled up a foldable chair and sat next to Takeshi. Takeshi raised himself up to be at eye level with his dad. "You, uh – You killed a lot of people," Takeshi stammered with his words. "For money, or for whatever reasons you had, but when you do kill a person, how exactly should you feel afterward? For causing someone to lose their life?"

Logically, Takeshi should feel guilty about it. Because Takeshi was a decent person with a fairly moral father and with honorable friends. The crime stuff was done honorably in Takeshi's view because Vito still had definable rules to stick to and follow. He did his best to be consistent. But Takeshi didn't feel guilty. Guilt was supposed to gnaw at him, torment him, never straying away from his thoughts and never letting up. He can't eat, sleep, think clearly – he didn't know what to do with himself until someone can show him how to get rid of the guilt and go back to smiling without faking it.

But Takeshi didn't feel guilty. He was self-aware enough to recognize feeling the lack of guilt. Instead, it felt like just another day of working for Vito and hanging out with their friends.

How many people can Takeshi kill without feeling guilty? What other bad, or morally questionable things, can Takeshi do without feeling shame or disgrace? He knew how to steal, how to intimidate people, beat them up, and now he knows he has what it takes to kill another human being.

Takeshi wasn't exactly a very imaginative or creative person, but the possibilities... It was kind of scary. That's not even thinking about what his dad might have been up to back in the day. Like father, like son, right?

"Son," dad finally said with a heavy breath, "your feelings and emotions will always be your own. I can only try to steer you in what I believe is the right direction. However, it is ultimately up to you to decide how to live your life."

Laughing awkwardly on instinct, Takeshi said, "I could still use some advice on the – the how to deal with killing stuff."

"Never enjoy it," dad declared with an intensity Takeshi has only seen during their training together. "Know the art and craft of the sword, but never enjoy taking one's life and ending it."

"I don't enjoy killing," Takeshi voiced aloud, "but I don't feel very bad about it either."

"Neutrality is preferable to favoring and savoring the kill," dad said. "Takeshi, we perfect our craft in any art – as swordsmen or as chefs, or as baseball players – for personal and spiritual enlightenment. We better ourselves to live eventful and engaging lives, and to share our enthusiasm alongside like-minded peers. We help make the world we live in a brighter, happier place through our arts and passions."

Baseball had definitely helped bring Takeshi out of some of his worse depressive moments, especially before he met Vito and the others.

"Killing," dad said with a stinging hiss, "is an art that shouldn't be celebrated. It is a necessary evil. It is an undeniably useful tool for defending yourself against those unwilling to compromise. Sometimes – too many times, in my experience – death is the only compromise an opponent will accept. Yours, or theirs. If they won't lay down their blades or guns, then you must not allow them to force you to surrender yours."

So, killing is a necessity. It's a fact of life. It can't be helped sometimes, guilt or no guilt. Killing people means that you get to live, and when you get to live, you get the chance to live your life to the fullest, to enjoy it.

The assassin was trying to wrongfully kill Lambo and Fuuta. Squalo would have murdered Takeshi without a second glance. So, Takeshi killed them. He would rather not have to kill them, but they gave him no choice, no chance to try changing their minds.

"You will see many more deaths as the Vongola Rain Guardian," dad continued. "Never consider each life you take for granted. You may feel guilt for being the cause of so much death, or perhaps you will feel satisfaction that you are the superior swordsman who shall live to see tomorrow. Either way, please don't drown yourself in death, in seeking for it, relishing in ending lives for the sake of it like the Varia."

Takeshi had reasons to fight and kill. Defend himself. Help out his dad. Protect his friends. He didn't care much about being the best swordsman out there, or about killing more people for the enjoyment of it, even if swinging the sword was kind of awesome. He also wasn't like that Bel prince weirdo, or like that sneering shark Squalo, even if Squalo was a pretty cool swordsman. Takeshi just has to remember that he had a clear purpose for doing any killing that he ends up having to do.

Takeshi should have talked with his dad sooner. He almost always found the right thing to say to get Takeshi back on track.

"Don't be like what I used to be," dad solemnly added, "before I met your mother."

What? But didn't dad meet Tsuna's mom way back when they were teenagers, when they were both living in Namimori and before dad went on his sole-searching journey to master the –

Takeshi instantly felt ashamed for mistaking who his dad was taking about. Takeshi hasn't thought about his real mom in a while. He couldn't remember a whole lot about her to begin with, but he could still recall what his first word was. "Mommy."

Yeah, death is a pretty morbid topic. Takeshi can't see himself ever relishing in death or anything like that.

Dad liked Tsuna's mom a lot. So did Takeshi. She spoiled Takeshi a bunch when she babysat him when he was younger or when she met him in passing while working as TakeSushi's sole waitress. Takeshi started seeing her around more after Tsuna apparently made amends with her. Takeshi kept a picture of all four of them – himself, his dad, Tsuna, and Tsuna's mom – taken during TakeSushi's 15th anniversary celebration framed on his wall.

They were the reasons Takeshi can use to justify any more killings he has to do. Yeah, that should work. Then he can stop feeling guilty about not feeling guilty, and everyone can go back to their usual routines.

Tsuna's mom hasn't been to TakeSushi in months, though. "Hey, dad," Takeshi prompted, "if you like Tsuna's mom so much, and she likes you, why is she still married to Tsuna's dad? Tsuna doesn't even like his dad." Despite all the books he's read and the TV dramas he's seen, Takeshi still can't make sense of the logic behind adultery and divorces. Marriage is until death, right? Or at least until the husband and the wife stop loving each other like they used to. And you have to really love someone for a marriage to count for anything, right? So even if... even if Takeshi's mom is gone, doesn't that mean his dad can at least try to be happy again by marrying Tsuna's mom? After all, they're all still alive enough to have another go at marriage. Right?

Dad just sighed and shook his head at Takeshi's question. He ruffled Takeshi's already messy bed hair before going for the door. "That's a conversation for another time," dad said. "Try to get some sleep, son. You may have won your battle, but the Ring Conflict is far from over."

X

Truth be told, Mukuro was quite disappointed in Viper's illusionary skills. While few were fortunate enough to experience and survive the Six Paths of Reincarnation as Mukuro did, he expected much more from an Arcobaleno than ending the fight with a discreet escape. Reborn had made him slightly sweat when he hinted at interfering in the battle between Mukuro and Vittorio Scaletta. Viper held no such threat or presence.

With the Varia and Cervello exiting Namimori's gymnasium, Mukuro let his grip over Chrome's body loosen. As his image faded to let Chrome take control, she wobbled on her feet and held onto her trident to support herself.

"You did well," Mukuro whispered into her ear. His body may be trapped in the confines of Vendicare, but possession and shadowing those Mukuro has marked and formed connections with did not mean he was completely isolated and helpless. Feeling Chrome threatening to throw up, Mukuro induced a relaxing illusion over her to ease away the pain. Her false organs began to function more smoothly, their stability tightening. "We will double our time and effort during training sessions to increase your stamina and endurance."

Her heaving breaths shifting to more controlled breathing, Chrome said, "Thank you, Mukuro-sama."

Mukuro smiled. More people needed to call him that of. "Of course," Mukuro replied. "Now, mind your surroundings. Vittorio Scaletta is approaching." The would-be Decimo was casually marching toward Chrome. His other Guardians (with the exceptions of the absent cow child and Kyoya Hibari) were physically blocking Ken and Chikusa from stepping between them.

Chrome submissively bowed her head to Vittorio Scaletta. Mukuro found it very convenient that Chrome was a naturally shy and reticent individual. Commanding and assertive women such as Cassandra, Adelheid Suzuki, and Hana Kurokawa typically incited Vittorio to bite back with his own fiery zest and challenge. Meeker family members, outwardly less confident and seemingly more vulnerable in the same veins as Francesca Scaletta and Enma Kozato, Vittorio Scaletta found himself wanting to protect and nurture. Chrome fit the latter category perfectly. She need not even have to put up a façade. Her regular behavior and attitude were more than enough.

Those pesky lingering memories of Vittorio Scaletta still annoyingly haunted Mukuro's faint dreams, but they had their uses.

In time, Vittorio Scaletta will see Chromes as simply another precious sister to care for. Her connection to Mukuro will eventually be dismissed as inconsequential as the complacency settles in. Iemitsu Sawada seems to believe Mukuro will freely support Vittorio of his own volition one day. Mukuro would have snorted at the fantasy if his body was physically capable of doing so. No, with Chrome serving as Mukuro's proxy and as another object of Vittorio's affections, possessing the eventual Vongola Decimo will become all too easy.

However, Mukuro had to admit to himself that he was caught off guard when Oshikiri and Takada – the respective karate and sumo club captains who were some of the first casualties when the Kokuyo Gang began their assault on Namimori – suddenly appeared behind Ken and Chikusa. The slim and limber martial artist moved with such ferocity and agility to disable Ken before he could reach for his teeth cartridges. The giant sumo captain simply sat atop Chikusa to immobilize him.

Then, Tetsuya Kusakabe entered the gym. He was leading a congregation of Disciplinary Committee members and other Namimori Middle athletes. Mukuro recognized them all from the list of the town's strongest fighters he had coerced from the Ranking Prince. They strolled up to Ken first, who was held up by the scruff of his collar by Oshikiri. School boys and ignorant children they may be, the lot of them had a clear purpose in mind with each step they took. Namely, retribution.

Kyoya Hibari is likely too busy training with the Chiavarone boss to bother with this amount crowding done by his own men in his own school. A part of Mukuro was disappointed. A rematch with him immediately after defeating Viper would have been interesting.

"They'll live," Vittorio said as the incessant kicks, punches, and insults began. Ken and Chikusa have undergone tremendously worst punishment before, so Mukuro was not too worried for their well-beings. Vittorio stretched out his palm toward Chrome. "Walk with me."

Chrome stared at the offered hand before staring at Vittorio's eyes. The Scaletta had a flat look on his face. For a cursory moment, Mukuro was looking at the reflection of the true Vittorio Scaletta, on a stained, dirty mirror while being shaved by a correctional officer. While Mukuro shook off that flashing memory of Hartmann Penitentiary from his mind, Chrome obliged Vittorio's request and locked her fingers between his.

"Play along," Mukuro advised. Vittorio's Guardians dispersed with the exception of Hayato Gokudera, who shadowed Chrome and Vittorio from a distance and clearly out of earshot. Vittorio and Chrome soon were ambling down an outdoor path illuminated by short lamp posts right outside an adjoining school building. They came across a small wooden bench and made themselves comfortable.

What exactly were Vittorio Scaletta's intentions for bringing Chrome out here? Mukuro pondered as much.

"How much do Mukuro and you know about Vito Scaletta?" the young boss candidate asked.

Chrome answered without any duplicity. "He has all your memories from your past life to when you had your fight with him in Kokuyo Land," she explained, "as do I, but Mukuro-sama can cut off my access to them if he so decides it."

"And just how much can Mukuro see and hear through you, since he's gotta be working 24/7 to be maintaining your fake organs?"

"Mukuro-sama is always listening," Chrome said. It wasn't quite how Mukuro would have phrased it, but he can't interfere too much in what Chrome says in common conversation. That would ruin the image of what autonomy Chrome has outside of Mukuro's influence.

Vittorio leaned back and draped his arm over the top of the bench's backrest. "And you're okay with that," he said. It was not an inquiry.

"I owe Mukuro-sama my life," Chrome said succinctly as she cradled her trident. "He is also tutoring me in conjuring illusions so that I can better serve as your Mist Guardian. Since his real body is confined to Vendicare, this is the best way he can teach me."

In actuality, there were a select few other Mist Flame specialists Mukuro could have possessed, either under mutual agreement or by force, instead of wholly relying on Chrome as his proxy. With Iemitsu Sawada's unexpected proposal and the time for the Mist Ring Battle fast approaching, Mukuro was forced to improvise. Vittorio Scaletta had no need to be informed of this last-minute arrangement with Chrome, however.

"Does Mukuro piggybacking off your body also mean that you have to rename yourself after him?" Vittorio asked. "Chrome Dokuro, Mukuro Rokudo – Reborn's made me solve enough bullshit riddles and word puzzles for me to see that your name's just an anagram for Mukuro's."

Mukuro actually quite enjoyed good riddles and word puzzles. Their solutions required a degree of creativity, and a creative mind was useful when creating illusions.

Chrome titled her head at an angle as she stared with her good eye. "My name is Chrome," she reaffirmed, "Mukuro-sama's student, and your Mist Guardian. That is all who I am to you, Boss."

Vittorio Scaletta's own stare against Chrome's gaze never wavered. "Your real name is Nagi," he said absently.

As Chrome tightened her grip on her trident and her shoulders shivered in shock, Mukuro fought against the urge to manifest and take control. Listening to the instincts of holding Vittorio Scaletta at knife point would not help his mission any. Sitting straighter, Chrome questioned, "How do you know –"

"I didn't see a whole lot about your life when you tried to possess me," Vittorio said, now talking directly to Mukuro, "but I remember seeing a Japanese girl who looked a lot like you in a Kokuyo Junior High uniform stepping out of a confessional. Was that whole church, the priest, that voice – were they all illusions that she was making?"

A voice? Mukuro couldn't remember shaping a specific priest or voice to keep Vittorio occupied when he was trying to possess him. Mukuro had only managed to construct a vague image from one of Vittorio's memories before Vittorio's reincarnated gifts and the entirety of his memories began to interfere with the possession, flooding Mukuro's senses. Through his already established connection with Chrome, she had ensured the mental image of the church did not falter immediately, but that seal the Vongola Nono had put on Vittorio prevented her from doing much else.

"This is the first time we have spoken to each other," Chrome said aloud. Mukuro shared her confusion, but he was happy that she kept a level head and formulated a reasonable response while Mukuro attempted to retrace his steps back to that day. What voice could have traded words with the young Decimo? Something related with the seal itself? Was the voice the deciding factor for Vittorio attaining Hyper Dying Will Mode?

"Guess it doesn't matter then," Vittorio concluded, cracking a smile and exuding an outlook of casualness. He rested one of his legs over the other. "We'll all get plenty of time to get to know each other better – all three of us." Vittorio Scaletta reached into a pocket and handed Chrome a set of keys. "My parents are making plans to move houses, but for now, there's enough space in Bianchi's and I-Pin's room for you."

What? He was inviting Chrome to live in his own home? Mukuro had expected that stage of their relationship further down the line, not within the same hour of meeting her.

"Arrangements have already been made for me to stay at Kokuyo Land," Chrome said, her own puzzlement rubbing off Mukuro and vice versa.

"That dilapidated dump? Mukuro's yes-men can do what they want there, but it ain't no place for a cute girl like you to be living in."

Ah, trying to flatter her, is he? As if Chrome would ever turn away from Mukuro's will and –

"You must know plenty enough about how I built up my crew here in Namimori," Vittorio suddenly said, once again staring at Chrome's eye but speaking directly toward Mukuro. "Half the people who work for me or with me used to hate my guts. Plenty of my guys who go to school here had this thing where they liked calling me 'No-Good Tsuna.' Kusakabe thought I was an overambitious upstart, Ichiro's gang tried going after my mom a few years ago, and Hibari – you know what Hibari's like."

Vittorio Scaletta stood up from the bench. Chrome did so as well to try to match Vittorio's height. She was a few inches shorter than him. "Now, look at them all," Vito continued. "Everyone thinks twice about even saying 'No-Good' in any context in this town." With the exception of Reborn, Mukuro privately noted. "I've got Kusakabe looking to me for advice and favors. Ichiro's one of my top capos. Even if it took Iemitsu and Dino to help work out the deal, I've got Hibari working for me as my Cloud Guardian now."

The Decimo held out his hand again. Chrome hesitated on whether to accept it or not. Mukuro could feel her suspicions and uncertainty. "A friend of mine told me that I'm the kind of boss who'd prefer more allies on my side than enemies," Vittorio continued. "Can't say for sure what's gonna happen with Varia, but as for you, Mukuro, if you've got my memories, then you already know what kind of boss I am. You know what I want out of this life, and what I will do for you if you become part of my family."

Mukuro whispered a short to command to Chrome. "Grab his hand," he urged. Chrome did so. Vittorio began comfortably strolling down the path, holding Chrome close to him. It was a cold night, after all.

"You threatened my mother and scarred Fuuta for life," Vito added, "but I've got a hyper sense of intuition, and it's telling me that Chrome can help mend some fences on that front, for both sides."

Mukuro regrets none of his prior offenses, but further attacks or threats against Vittorio Scaletta's family was unnecessary and outright detrimental to his plans.

"Give it time. I think you'll find that ruling the world with me is a much better idea than drowning it in blood." Vittorio flashed a dashing smile at Chrome. To her, it was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. Mukuro could feel it directed at himself as well, more so as a taunt. "Before you know it, we'll all be one big happy family. Just you wait."

In all honestly, Mukuro was intrigued by Vittorio's Scaletta strategy. Charm Chrome. Convert Mukuro to his side. Make the both of them care for Vittorio's family and for Vittorio himself. Forcing an enemy to hate yourself was not a tactic unfamiliar to Mukuro, but this is the first time he has seen the tactic of forcing an enemy to develop feelings of positive affection for yourself in practice.

He'll play along for now. Mukuro will stay true to his dreams and designs, but that doesn't mean he can't indulge in the potential Decimo's reincarnated insanity.

"Now that you have been properly introduced," Mukuro spoke into Chrome's ear, "what is your impression of Vittorio Scaletta?"

Mukuro was surprised by her response. "He reminds me of you, Mukuro-sama," she mentally communicated back.

"Oh? How so?"

"You both have grand visions you strive for, but you don't forget how to be kind."

How to be kind? Mukuro was kind and considerate to Ken and Chikusa because they were loyal soldiers who needed their morale consistently maintained. Chrome is Mukuro's pathway to the world outside Vendicare. Her training is necessary if she is to be strong enough to work alongside him and to overcome future opponents. Without those illusionary organs, she would die. That can't happen. Bearing the title and responsibilities of the Vongola Mist Guardian, fighting in the name of a mafia family, is a means to a bloody end.

Kindness on Mukuro's part was always a means to an end.

Kindness has also been a means to an end for Vittorio Scaletta. Some kind acts were done for professional reasons, but others were done with complete sincerity.

Mukuro seriously needs to find a more efficient method in separating his own emotions and predilections from those of Vittorio's that constantly reverberate and echo from his memories. Mukuro is his own man with his own goals. Surviving the Six Paths of Reincarnation and attaining their respective abilities were his own achievements. What the Estraneo did to him were his own miseries. Hartman Penitentiary, the Second World War, working jobs with Joe, and teaching Enma and Mami how to be true bosses, they were all – and feeling a kinship grow with Reborn despite all of his bullshit torture tutoring tactics, and watching Magi Kozato get gunned down, seeing Henry getting fucking butchered –

Mukuro quickly cut himself off from Chrome. He ensured her illusionary organs did not dissipate, but he'd rather not let her feel the intense influx of emotion Mukuro was undergoing.

Everything Vittorio Antonio Scaletta has experienced is his own business. Mukuro will do with his life what he will, as should Chrome with her own life.

To distract himself, Mukuro let his body feel the pains inflicted by Vendicare's restraints and let his mind wander. Now that he thought about it, in different circumstances, Vittorio Scaletta may have gotten along quite well with Xanxus. Their ambitions for a new age of Vongola prominence and expansion matched, aside from the amount of violence and blood the two imagined being involved.

Had the man who had freed Xanxus from his ice prison approached Vito as well, the Ring Conflict may have never occurred.

If Vittorio Scaletta does lose the Ring Conflict, Mukuro should begin planning how to go about possessing the newly christened Vongola Decimo.

X

The herbivores and foreigners gathered at a small field within school grounds. The boss herbivore was absent as the baby had said that his training was nearing completion. It was a shame. As soon as Kyoya defeated his opponent in this meaningless Cloud Battle, he had intended to begin another fight with the boss herbivore. He and Kyoya must be significantly stronger than either of them were in their last bout after all the training.

Well, Kyoya can always go after that Xanxus character. He has been doing nothing but sitting on his bottom for the entirety of this overall inane crowding conflict.

Kyoya Hibari was waiting within a school building, watching the herbivores and foreigners shuffled their feet from behind a tinted window. Before Kyoya begins biting anyone to death tonight, he had another appointment to settle.

"Kyoya," Tetsuya greeted him as he entered the room. "You called for me? If it's about the mall, the school rooftop, and the other damages made during the Ring Conflict, all the repairs have been completed. There is only –"

"Why did you grant territory and authority belonging to the Namimori Disciplinary Committee to Tsunayoshi Sawada?" Kyoya questioned bluntly. He did not want any misunderstanding to be had. "Tsunayoshi Sawada – Vito, is an interesting one. Entertaining at his best, annoying at his worst. Either way, I have no desire of working as an underboss to anyone, least of all him."

Tetsuya instantly started to sweat. Kyoya could see the drops of water beginning to drip down the sides of his face, but Tetsuya's voice and stance remained strong and unswerving. "That fact that you have not attacked me yet must mean that you are not absolutely affronted by what I did," he carefully enunciated.

Conceding his point, Hibari acknowledged, "You have always been loyal and provided satisfactory service in enforcing the peace. I want to know your reasons for assuming you can make such executive decisions before I decide to bite you to death."

Kyoya observed Tetsuya exhale a noiseless breath of air, a motion he often practiced when during his private meditation sessions. "Dominating predators in the wild do not take control of more territory than they can reasonably and efficiently secure and defend. That was our mistake. The NDC was spread too thin when the Kokuyo Gang began their assault. They and other rival gangs preyed on us and nearly destroyed us. If not for Vito's help, we would be far worse off than how we are now."

They only owed Vito a few favors, then, just as Tetsuya has formally negotiated contracts and agreements with Vito before. "Submission is an admittance of defeat."

"We were defeated," Tetsuya snapped, his composure breaking for a moment. All Hibari had to do was narrow his eyes a single inch to remind Tetsuya why deference toward him was always a necessity. "You may have left the hospital before Vito did, but he had the manpower and contacts – and still does – to obliterate the Disciplinary Committee in no more than a week. Instead, he let us integrate what we have into his own operations. We're are all still alive and still active, hard at work."

The boss herbivore was an opportunist, true. And he did do a decent job at delegating his lieutenants in upholding the peace and breaking up incessant crowding while these Ring Battles were going on and while Kyoya was preoccupied with the whip wielder. Still, "You did not inform me of your plans."

"Because –" Tetsuya stopped himself short before taking a more audible breath to calm himself. "Because you would never have taken the deal Vito offered. The only reason he or I haven't brought it up with you in a more official capacity is because of the Ring Conflict. Once they passed, we were going to rendezvous with you and –"

"I am free to bite whatever herbivores crowd Namimori," Kyoya interrupted, "and hunt down whoever disturbs the peace. That is my responsibility and my privilege as the head of the Namimori Disciplinary Committee. I do not accomplish these tasks on another's whim." As if Kyoya Hibari would lower himself to ignore his own desires and to align under the boss herbivore simply because he tells him to.

"I know you're strong, Kyoya," Tetsuya accepted. "I know what you are capable of, but we don't know fully what other new arrivals to Namimori will be capable of. That foreign doctor infected you with a disease we had no hope of curing with our own resources. We did not anticipate Mukuro Rokudo attacking with illusions. The Varia were completely unknown elements to us. More mafia affiliates will be coming to this city because of Vito. Then there is Vito himself, and his Guardians – as I said, you are strong, Kyoya, but how long do you think you can shoulder the responsibility of watching over Namimori without admitting your own shortcomings and accepting the help of potential allies?"

If Kyoya didn't know Tetsuya for so long, and if Tetsuya hadn't been such a loyal follower of his for so many years, then Kyoya would have bitten him to death right then and there.

As it was, Kyoya suppressed himself from expressing a snort. Survival instincts were important, but Tetsuya must have been too focused on survival to remember the purpose for the NDC's existence: upholding the peace of Namimori by eliminating those who disturb it.

Maintaining the peace and harmony of one's domain is a testament to one's strength. If the enforcer of peace was not strong enough, there would be wanton anarchy and chaos. Chaos is a testament to weakness. The one who can put an end to the disorganized crowding and careless mayhem is the strongest of them all.

That is who Kyoya Hibari is. The strongest.

The boss herbivore has always believed that he should be the strongest instead.

The Varia have disrupted the peace of Namimori. Kyoya can focus his energy on biting them to death, along with locating Mukuro Rokudo – possibly through that lookalike Chrome Dokuro – and ending the pineapple-haired illusionist afterward. During that time, Kyoya has few complaints in letting the boss herbivore attempt at assuming all of the NDC's responsibilities.

Let the boss herbivore shoulder the weight of maintaining the peace of the larger Namimori, expanding his gang's borders and activities. If he fails to maintain order, then it will become Kyoya's sworn duty to bite him to death to restore the status quo. If he happens to do an acceptable job in maintaining the peace, the boss herbivore will have proven that he truly is strong. Then, once Mukuro Rokudo has been hunted down and has paid for his transgressions, Kyoya will have the chance to fight Vito and to prove with finality who of the two of them is actually the strongest.

Either way, allowing the boss herbivore the opportunity to rule or rot, Kyoya will be happy. From what Kyoya has gleamed from Tetsuya, he is still loyal and respectful, so Kyoya sees no reason to bite him to death while there are more enticing and aggravating targets to attend to.

"Do as you always have, Tetsuya," Kyoya said as he began to make his way outside. Walking past Tetsuya and upon hearing him heave a sigh of relief, Kyoya added, "Never willfully misuse my trust in you again."

Once outside, Kyoya paid the crowd very little attention. He was focus squarely on the odd creature that was his opponent.

He disabled the goliath within seconds.

Not even worth his time. How disappointing.

Now, after Kyoya flicked the remains of his fallen opponent's ring to one of the pink commentators, he decided now was the time to move on to the Xanxus character.

Unfortunately, just as Kyoya turned toward him, he felt an intense burning sensation slice down his lower leg and part of his knee. Kyoya's stance faltered. He barely swerved over the body of the Mosca, which propelling itself forward with its rocket-powered boots.

So, the Mosca did have some fight left in it. When the creature released a multitude of explosive warheads that flew sporadically in the air before locking onto Kyoya, Kyoya let the spiked chains and flails release from the ends of his new tonfas. It may take some precision, but Kyoya was confident he could use his chains to hit the rockets and redirect them to hit each other before they can get any closer to him.

However, Kyoya lost the opportunity to carry out his strategy as rapid, unrelenting gunfire of bright orange flames overwhelmed the rockets, destroying every single one of them on impact. Still in flight, the Mosca came back around and fired several high-caliber bullets from its fingertips. Kyoya dodged most of them, but his already hurt leg was hit again. The burns gave way to blood.

Panicked screaming suddenly came from behind him. He turned around to get tackled by the boss herbivore, who was dressed in that unpleasant-looking bomber jacket instead of wearing his Namimori Middle uniform. He was wildly thrashing in the air as he barreled into Kyoya. They rolled on the grassy ground until Kyoya finally kicked him off.

"What the fuck, Brasi?!" the boss herbivore shouted into the air. In the distance, the boss herbivore's pet dog was running in circles in tandem with, of all things, the bird that had attached itself to Kyoya not long after the events with the Kokuyo Gang. "I thought you had my back?"

The dog whined a whimper of hesitance and fear in response. This was the first time Kyoya has head the pet express such distress.

"Tsunayoshi Sawada," one of the pink commentators spoke up, "you must vacate from the boundaries of the Cloud Battle or –" She said nothing more as an explosion nearly consumed her, if not for the other commentator dragging her out of the way. The Mosca was still airborne and firing its torpedoes, lasers, and other munitions indiscriminately.

The boss herbivore sighed dramatically as he popped what looked like bite-sized candies or pills into his mouth. "Of all the times to get pissy on me," he muttered. Swallowing, a burst of fire appeared and perpetually sustained itself over his forehead. "Why's he so afraid of getting close to the Mosca?"

Kyoya hit the boss herbivore's side with his tonfa. "Get out of my way," Kyoya commanded.

"Fuck you. Look, Reborn said the Gola Mosca ain't supposed to be this strong. Xanxus – I don't know what he did, but –"

"Watch out!" the chubby Italian around the boss herbivore's age yelled out, clasping his hands around his mouth and standing in front an explosion of dust. "Watch your asses! That thing's coming around for another pass on you guys!"

Naturally, the Gola Mosca came at Kyoya and the boss herbivore from directly above them. It's rockets and bullets cascaded all around them.

The boss herbivore released a torrent of flames from his gloved palms that blasted and obliterated the projectiles on contact. The Mosca flew directly into the fire and continued moving. Once the creature was at an optimal range, Kyoya flung his flails to attack it. Since the Mosca most likely had a thick layer of armor or whatever material its skin was composed of, Kyoya maneuvered his chains to wrap around the Mosca's body, aiming to trap it rather than stab or cut it.

The intensity of the boss herbivore's fire must be greater the closer one approaches the source point. As the Mosca neared him and Kyoya, it changed its course, trying to pull up and fly away. Kyoya grounded his feet and pulled on his tonfas to bring the creature back down. While Kyoya was dragged a few feet and may have been pulled out of the floor entirely if this kept going, the Mosca was halted just long enough for the boss herbivore to redirect his flames below himself, fly in an arc over the field, and to unload a fiery blast of flames directly into the Mosca's face.

At last, the Mosca crashed into the ground once more, this time actually defeated. Kyoya let himself fall into a sitting position. Once he pulled back his flails back into his tonfas, he studied the burns and cuts on his leg. Assuming Tetsuya was still nearby and hasn't lost his nerve, he could probably patch Kyoya up before sunrise.

Quietly, Kyoya watched as the boss herbivore walked toward the Mosca. Something was off in the herbivore's gait. When he struck the Mosca's body with enough force to cut it in half, another body of an average-sized man dropped out of the larger corpse.

It was an elderly man whose half-open eyes were just a shade lighter than the boss herbivore's brown color, though the herbivore's eyes were currently orange like the fire on his forehead for some reason.

If it was the elderly man who was behind the controls of the Mosca, perhaps he can serve as a worthy opponent on his own as well. When he did not appear gravely injured and nearly dying, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote most of this within a five-six hour time frame. I've got the outline planned out for the rest of this arc, but the actually writing of the chapters will probably take longer. Regardless, keep an eye out for the next chapter, "This is a High-Risk Business."


	11. This is a High-Risk Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of the posting of this update, this chapter along with chapters 1-5 have been graciously beta-read by "Snowfire the Kitsune", author of the “Waking Up Nana” KHR story and its two sequels.

Vongola Nono wasn't someone Vito had given a whole lot of thought on. Ever since Reborn came into his life, Vito had been a bit preoccupied dealing with the day-to-day of Reborn's tutoring and expanding his own operations to really contemplate on the current Vongola boss. Vito could accept that internal politics and reverence toward bloodlines prevented Iemitsu from becoming the Decimo, and that meant dumping the responsibility onto Vito's lap; but it honestly confused Vito why Nono had never bothered to pay him a visit, after it was decided that he would be the next boss. It wasn't like Nono was on his death bed or anything. You'd think a bigshot boss of bosses, like Nono, would want to meet and gauge the worth of their prospective replacement personally; at least a few times instead of relying solely on Reborn's reports.

Vito was sure that Nono would finally make an appearance once the Ring Conflict was over. Then, Vito could: finally get some answers, meet the man who decided to make him boss, and the man who had suddenly changed his mind about Vito being said boss. Vito could also ask about the seal, probably about Reborn's first student, too, and a bunch of whole other things that Vito could get squared once he got into a conversation with Nono.

He didn't expect to meet Nono half dead and falling out of a mechanized super suit of armor, smack dab in the middle of Namimori Middle.

And when their eyes met as Nono weakly rolled himself to his side, all Vito could see was old Leo quietly telling him to walk away and let Henry kill him in peace. Sure, Leo survived a hell of a lot longer than either of them, in hindsight, but there was one key thing that Leo had conveyed through that one look that Nono was also conveying right now: acceptance.

Iemitsu and Reborn were arguing loudly with Xanxus and the Cervello, but Vito – the Dying Will Flame on his forehead puffing out – put his attention squarely on Nono. Timoteo, his name was. The first thing that came out of Timoteo's mouth was a half-hearted whisper of, "Vito Scaletta."

Reborn obviously told Timoteo all about Vito's reincarnation business, but the way Timoteo said his name, there was too much familiarity in there. It sounded like a part of Timoteo was reminiscing about something. Vito didn't know what, though. His Hyper Intuition wasn't quite omniscient, unfortunately.

"We finally get to meet," Timoteo groaned, "young Tsunayoshi, and old Vittorio."

"It's about time," Vito agreed. He should probably be trying to get Timoteo some medical attention, but he felt his feet glued to the spot. Big bosses kind of had that paralyzing effect on people. You pay attention and stay at attention until the boss tells you that you can do otherwise, and despite the kind yet weary tone, the vibe Vito was getting from Timoteo was exactly that.

"My son, Federico, spoke about you, Vito," Timoteo said, and Vito didn't know what to fucking say to that. "You, and Joe Barbaro. Reborn has already informed me what he has learned of you following Mukuro Rokudo's arrest, and I did not know of Basil's condition until recently, but when I had visited you as a child, I recognized exactly what you were."

"Who was Federico?" Vito couldn't help from asking. He had to ask, but Timoteo didn't answer his question.

"The seal was meant to shun your old self, your old memories, so that you – young Tsunayoshi – could live a life without ghosts from another world haunting your every waking moment. Federico never truly learned to move on from his past. It destroyed him. I am partly to blame for that. I helped put Federico on the road to ruin. With your seal, I thought I could spare another child from the same fate."

Well, Timoteo's plan failed almost spectacularly. Almost. "I can't say what my life would be like if I didn't know what Vito Scaletta has gone through," Vito said, "but I remember everything. My memories don't haunt me so much as they give me good reason not to screw up a second time around. Where I am now – practically running Namimori, taking care of my family, on the cusp of controlling the largest, most influential crime syndicate on the entire planet – I don't plan on screwing any of that up by starting another mafia civil war."

Now finding the strength to move his feet, Vito approached Timoteo to start removing some of the wires that were still connected between the old man and the Gola Mosca suit. "I don't know who Federico was," Vito said, "but I'm not like him or Xanxus." Once Timoteo was freed, Vito started dragging him away from the suit and to get Shamal to take a look at him. "For one, I'm not gonna lose. I'm going to be the Decimo, the boss, and unlike them, I don't have to betray or kill every single person in my way to do it."

Timoteo cracked a smile. Vito didn't expect to see that. For a moment, if you ignored the injuries and scars, Timoteo actually looked like a harmless old man. "None of my sons could ever truly find balance between the darkness that comes with the mafia and the compassion needed to retain your sanity in the midst of iniquity. I believe Reborn may be right when he claimed you might be able to coincide the worth and the costs of necessity and family, just as the original Vongola Primo once did."

A bony finger pressed itself against Vito's temple.

He saw a flash of light, another flame fluttering in the breeze, and the Vongola emblem that Vito had seen when he had unlocked Hyper Dying Will Mode back during the fight with Mukuro – Vito watched it burst into pieces and break apart. Vito blinked, and as his vision was overshadowed with an intense orange tint before clearing away back to reality.

Vito didn’t know how to describe it. He could feel his Sky Flames more profusely now, feel them lingering under his skin, feel the power that was making Vito’s hands quiver, eager to be released. 

The only comparison Vito could make was how he felt when he had finally walked out of prison and reunited with Joe. After all the bullshit of Luca basically backstabbing him and dealing with an undeniably shitty prison cell, Vito was clear to do whatever the hell he put his mind to.

He was freed.

Vito was dazed for a second because of that influx of Sky Flames flooding past the seal. He faltered and would have fallen forward and dropped Timoteo, if Joe hadn't come out of nowhere and caught them. Brasi and Reborn were sitting on Joe's shoulders. Brasi morphed into that same orange, reddish-brown fire that had healed Joe to now help out Timoteo while Reborn's natural Sun Flames went to work. Shamal was one step behind them.

Joe had an earpiece on and was blathering wildly. "I said to get a medic over here! Nono's down! Things are going outta control!" Joe set Timoteo down in a small clearing in the field. With Brasi, Reborn, and Shamal preoccupied with the boss, Joe turned to Vito with concern in his eyes. "How about you, Vito? Why the heck did you explode in a spread of flames like that?"

The seal was gone. He wasn't confined to watching from behind the scenes. He didn't have to rely on Dying Will Mode or the Hyper version to be able to help out now. He could really meet Kyoko, Mama, Fuuta, Reborn – everyone! He could do anything now! He could –

Whoa. Where did hell did those thoughts come from?

"Iemitsu Sawada!" one of the Cervello suddenly cried out with enough high-pitched vehemence that made Vito wince. "Stand back. By the decrees made by Vongola Nono –"

"Those decrees are meaningless!" Iemitsu screamed. A torrent of flames spun around him. He was in a boxing stance, facing Xanxus. Xanxus was smirking like an arrogant shit with his leather jacket hanging off his shoulders. "Why was Nono trapped in the Gola Mosca suit? As the goddamned boss, he was ineligible to be a Cloud Guardian to begin with!"

"Nono assigned the Mosca as my Guardian," Xanxus said snidely. "I can't help it if he forbid me from opening the suit. Regardless of Nono's reasons, your chosen boss candidate nearly killed him, Iemitsu. He can't walk away from an overt assassination attempt unpunished. No exceptions."

"Not when it was you who put him in a position to be killed!"

"Baseless accusations," Xanxus dismissed as he drew out his guns. "If you don't stand aside now, then you can burn in hell along with your shitty son."

The goading was starting to get to Iemitsu. When he stepped forward, the Cervello blocked his path. "If you interfere, then Tsunayoshi Sawada risks any claim he has to –"

Vito was getting real fucking sick with all the bullshit politics and rules and restrictions surrounding the Ring Conflict.

So, when he dashed between the Cervello referees, Vito held one ball of fire in his gloved hand directly in front of one of their faces while training his favored non-Brasi handgun at the other girl.

"You're done," Vito hissed. The pink-haired, masked freaks have broken their aloof, flat façades before, but boy, were they sweating plenty now. "Everything you've said about Nono making you judges is complete crap. Leave, or you'll get caught in the crossfire."

The Cervello wordlessly backed off.

"Tsuna," Iemitsu began sternly, but Vito wasn't gonna hear it.

"Turns out that the Ring Conflict was a sham," Vito announced. He nodded toward Xanxus. "Guess that makes all the wins my Guardians earned null and void."

"I suppose it does," Xanxus agreed smartly, holding back some of his excitement. He was ready for a fight, and so was Vito. "You tried to murder the Vongola Nono. I have to kill you in retaliation."

"And you're just covering for your own sorry ass," Vito said, holstering his gun and letting his gloved hands envelop in flames, "by framing me. Guess that means I have to kick your ass."

Iemitsu reached out for Vito's arm. "Tsuna!" the man barked again. Vito gave him a single look that stopped him right in his tracks. Vito was the fucking boss now, Vongola Rings or not. No one was gonna get in his way from making sure everyone understood that.

"Take care of Nono," Vito told him, "and make sure the rest of the Varia don't pull any more fast ones on us." With those last words, Vito turned his back to his father and propelled himself toward Xanxus with his flames.

When Xanxus fired off a Wrath Flame-infused shot, Vito swung his hands to his side to push himself out of the way. Xanxus fired with his second X-Gun. Vito released a higher burst of Sky Flames from his hands to move out of the way of the burning bullet's trajectory.

Vito arced over the air. Once he got within striking distance, he threw a punch at Xanxus' scarred face. Xanxus shoved his own fist against Vito's. The impact caused an intense roar of orange-tinted flames to sporadically pulsate. Through the blinding light, Vito could see Xanxus line up another shot with his other gun. Vito grabbed the barrel and tried to bash Xanxus' eye with the rear sight.

Bending his arm, Xanxus pulled the trigger on one of his guns. The recoil shot his elbow back with enough force to hit Vito's jaw and kick his teeth in. Xanxus did the same move with his other X-Gun. Vito ducked to avoid the second attack and roundhouse kicked Xanxus' gut. In the space between them, the both of them extended their weapons and fired at each other, creating a giant, convulsing spherical flame.

There was a boom not too long after that, which sent Vito and Xanxus flying in opposite directions.

Vito's sense of his surroundings was completely out of whack as he flew through the air. However, he felt his body move, rotating so that he landed on the side of one of Namimori Middle's school buildings. The force of the impact made a depression on the wall big enough for Vito to apply enough traction so that he wouldn't fall to the ground below.

He just saved himself from a bloodier, messy crash thanks to pure instinct. It was like the automatic reactions and decision-making that Vito's Dying Will Mode used were amped up tenfold, but he was still conscious enough to steer it in what general direction he chose.

Mostly, at least. There was this nagging itch at the back of Vito's head that he couldn't quite make sense of, but there was no time to think too much about it. Xanxus landed on the side of another building. He propelled himself up and outward with his X-Guns. Vito did the same with his X-Gloves. High in the air, they collided and exchanged blows once more.

The fight was a lot more airborne than Vito had expected. He had to be creative to outmaneuver Iemitsu during their brawls, and Joe knew a few handy tricks with his Earth Flame. Hayato, no matter how much shit Vito might give him, was a genius and had made sure to test Vito's limits with how much destruction a Storm Flame is capable of, too. None of those training sessions had involved this much flying by shooting out Sky Flames, though.

Vito had used Brasi a lot more during the training, too. Too bad he was too busy helping heal Timoteo. There went all of Vito's strategies that needed Brasi to work alongside him. Not like the guns Vito did have could do anything noteworthy against Xanxus' hand cannons.

Xanxus eventually got in a good hit that set Vito's shoulder on fire. Not the good kind of fire, either. The fabric of his jacket was burnt away, letting his undershirt and skin feel the boiling heat that prompted Vito to hide around the corner of a building to catch his breath. He winced as he tried to will away the pain and to stop his arm and hand from shaking so much. Yeah, Brasi would have been pretty useful right about now; for the healing, and for the range that his gun form would have given Vito. It was Vito's burden to have to get in close since Xanxus' X-Guns let him fire from a good distance away. Thank God Xanxus seemed to be one of those types who liked to kill up close and personal, constantly trying to bash Vito's head in and blasting at him at close range.

There were still a few kinks to the Zero Point Breakthrough that Vito hasn't yet figured out, but his Sky Flames were still flowing as brightly as ever. The pain and the numbness on his shoulder didn't matter. Vito can definitely make this next move work.

From atop the school's flagpole, Xanxus fired repeatedly at Vito. Vito sprinted from cover to cover in short bursts, between tree trunks and overturn benches and the like. The Flame of Wrath blew those pieces of cover into smithereens, but Vito was always already moving to the next position before he could get caught in the explosion.

Once Vito got close enough, Xanxus jumped off his vantage point and descended to land another punch at him. Vito let his palms face the floor and ascended up to meet him.

Scratch that. Xanxus' charge wasn't for another hand-to-hand attack. Halfway down the flagpole, Xanxus aimed his guns downward and fired.

Fuck it. Vito can still make this work.

Vito stopped releasing flames from his gloves and pressed his hands together, forming the familiar hand gesture he had made all throughout his training that would –

Wait a second. That wasn't the right pose. His left hand wasn't supposed to be bent like that. Why was he –

The Wrath Flames barreled all over Vito's entire body before he could correct himself and pull off the right technique in time. He's been set aflame before, but this? This just fucking burned. Hotter and more intense than anything he's ever felt. It wasn't just the sensation from being on fire. Vito could fucking feel all the hate and adrenaline Xanxus was packing into his attack. Flame of Wrath was a fucking apt name. Xanxus wanted Vito reduced to nothing but ashes, and he just might get what he wanted.

There was a sharp, distinct crap that resounded when Vito hit the ground. He hit concrete instead of grass, unfortunately. His back flared in pain. The back of his head rebounded off the curb of an outdoor set of stairs. Yeah. Yeah, that was definitely blood that touched Vito's fingers when he felt around his messy hair. God, he should've known better and gotten a haircut before the Ring Conflict really kicked off. His puffy hair had a tendency to defy gravity, but the effect was lost when it was drenched in sweat and almost caramelized to a point of meshing with his skin, like how it was now.

Xanxus landed a few yards away from Vito's beaten and burnt body. Like a smug asshole, he casually approached Vito with a slow saunter and a helluva shit-eating grin.

He was either gonna give a self-aggrandizing speech or straight up shoot Vito point-blank. Not giving Xanxus the opportunity to do either, Vito blasted out a stream of flames to send himself careening through a window. The glass might have made even more cuts along his body, but at least Vito had some more cover in the dark classroom.

Xanxus setting the entire classroom aflame unfortunately put a damper to Vito’s retreat.

Still, with how much damage Xanxus has done so far, he has to have to reload his X-Guns again, by now.

Using the spreading flames as camouflage to shroud his movements, Vito dragged himself into a hallway and dashed out the window of the adjoining classroom. On his way out, Vito pulled with him a chair that he threw at Xanxus. Just as Vito hoped, Xanxus was in the middle of reloading his guns. He only got a replacement cartridge in one of them when Vito tossed the chair. Xanxus instinctively shot at the chair, completely destroying it before it could hit a thing. Distracted, even for a split-second, Xanxus was wide open for Vito to tackle him.

With Vito trying to get a good grip over Xanxus to pin him and as Xanxus struggled against Vito, Xanxus wasn't able to line up a good shot with his loaded gun. He pressed the trigger and released another burst of flames in a random direction, using the momentum in an attempt to unbalance Vito. However, Vito just took the chance to swing a flame-infused punch straight across Xanxus' face. You could hear the cracking echo of a broken nose and see the blood spew out from Xanxus' lips.

With Xanxus stumbling and disoriented, Vito pressed his hands together into the correct formation, this time.

Xanxus whirled around to fire his X-Gun again, but by the time Vito was looking down the barrel of the pistol, it was too late. A coating of flames spread all over Xanxus, and the rest was history.

There Xanxus was, trapped in ice from the waist up. A look of pure, unsurmountable ire and fury on his face was frozen in time. His legs wobbled for a few seconds before he fell back entirely.

Vito almost did the same thing, falling back and going to sleep, but Joe caught him before he did.

"Told ya you'd be able to do it," Joe snarked with a wink, helping to keep Vito on his feet.

Turning his head around to look at his surroundings, Vito could see his Guardians with Mochida, Hana, and the Kokuyo gang mooks hopping into the air as they cheered, some with more excitement than others. Hibari was off in his own corner being tended to by Kusakabe. The Cervello girls and the rest of the surviving Varia members were standing on a rooftop. If Vito squinted, he could see all of their gaping jaws hanging wide open. If Vito had the strength, he'd be grinning at that reaction.

"Where's..." Vito trailed off, too weak to even say aloud a complete thought.

"Iemitsu and Reborn are taking care of Nono," Joe told him as guided Vito toward a bench that had somehow not been destroyed during the battle. "The medics and Doc Shamal are making sure the old man won't die. You gotta wait your turn for the extra healin', but hey. You fucking beat Xanxus' butt! Friggin' good job, man! No offense, but I've seen him in action. He ain't someone you can just –"

Joe stopped short. His grip slackened as he let Vito drop to the floor. What the fuck was he –

There was someone else here now. Some asshole wearing a black coat that fit right with the Varia's style of uniform. The guy had a hand pressed over Joe's face. Joe stood still, unmoving, frozen in place almost like Xanxus. Then it was exactly like Xanxus as ice started forming over Joe's head.

Vito was already moving to rip out the asshole's guts, ignoring all of the aches, stings, and burning in his muscles that came with each movement, when the newcomer turned around and pressed his palm against Vito's forehead.

Everything went dark.

Vito had no idea where he was.

He didn't feel like he was frozen. He had gotten some of his own body parts trapped in Dying Will ice before during training, but what Vito was feeling like right now wasn't anything like that.

This feeling... Vito was stuck in another illusion, maybe. Trapped in his own mind like when Mukuro tried to possess him.

He should be trying to break free out of this.

He should...

It was a seal. That asshole put another seal on him! Was he trying to mess with Vito's and Joe's memories? Cut off their access to their flames? Fuck that. God fucking damn it, this feels just like when Vito was stuck in that confessional and when he was talking to... to...

He should see this. He needs to.

The darkness finally gave way to something Vito could actually see. He saw a kid maybe a year younger than him. The kid had a black eye and was tied to a chair. A couple of other kids were also tied down beside him. They were all surrounded by masked goons holding peashooters.

"Of all the ways I imagined myself dying," said one of the – was that a teenage fucking Shamal? What the – "I would have preferred it in the arms of a harem of beautiful women, not surrounded in the company of so many flamboyant men."

"Me, too, man," sighed another kid. "Me, too." Vito didn't recognize him.

The first kid Vito had spotted spoke up. "Can the both of you two idiots shut the fuck up?"

The Shamal kid – man, did he look like Hayato with that hairdo – shrugged. "I think Enrico and I are entitled to a few last words."

The other kid, Enrico, gave a wry smile. "Come on, Federico. We're on our last legs here. Sure, we killed the guy, but look at us now. Do you really think his family is going to let us walk away?"

Hold on a second. Federico. Enrico.

Those were the names of Timoteo's kids. Massimo was the name of the other one. Xanxus was still alive, but the other sons had all gotten axed and had made it possible for Vito to become the Decimo in the first place.

One of the goons grabbed Federico's chin and pressed the barrel of a gun against his face. "Pitiful Vongola child," sneered the goon. "You truly believe you can escape punishment for murdering our boss?"

"Oh, boo-hoo for you," Federico mocked, spitting saliva at the thug. "If it wasn't me, it would've been someone else who killed your boss. With his shit security detail, anyone and their mother could've killed him. Besides, he can't have been a good boss if a couple of kids with a few six-shooters and a Molotov fried him."

Federico was pistol-whipped and hit the floor. Since his chair was tied to Shamal's and Enrico's, they fell with him. The ring leader goon cocked his gun. "Enough waiting!" he yelled. "The Vongola have not yielded to our demands. Their time has passed, so we end this. Now."

The ring leader aimed his gun, but then his brains were splattered all over the wall.

His boys readied their own guns, but they never got to fire their weapons. The gunfire that did ring out came in quick succession, systematically killing each and every one of them.

Casually, a tall figure styled in a smooth black suit, a cool orange dress shirt, slick and curly sideburns, and a fedora tipped forward to shroud his eyes stepped into the room. In one hand, he held a gun with smoke spewing from the barrel; on his shoulder, there sat a familiar chameleon.

"Holy shit," Enrico said in shock. "You're–You're – "

"Who is it?" Federico asked. "I can't fucking see." With the way they were sprawled on the floor, Federico had his back to the newcomer. As Federico turned his head at just the right angle, Vito could tell he made eye contact with the tall figure.

"Chaos," the man said. The voice might be older and deeper, but that tone of half-charming and half-taunting could only be one person. "Which one of you killed Dallara Tomaso?"

Enrico shut his mouth tightly, but Shamal kicked Federico's side. "It was him."

The adult Reborn, pre Arcobaleno pacifier, lowered his gun as he kneeled before Federico. "Is that true?"

Defiance shone in Federico's eyes. "Yes."

An impressed smile. "You got to him before I was able to make my move," Reborn remarked. "That resulted in your capture, but still, I'm impressed."

"Good to know."

Then, everything went dark again for Vito.

Flashforward. This was a flashforward to a few years into the future. Vito was watching Federico again. He was a little older and wearing a suit getup obviously modeled after Reborn's, except for the fedora. His shirt was more a darker amber than orange, too.

Federico was strolling through a fancy corridor. The Vongola emblem was draped on suspended flags and carpets. This must be the big old mansion in Italy were the Vongola Boss and his Guardians usually stayed at. Federico himself had a weariness in his step with a slightly hunched back. He held his singed suit jacket by the collar and let it hang over his shoulder. Vito knew that general gait and look. Dino had it, too. Federico must have just finished up another one of Reborn's special tutoring lessons.

"Hey," Federico called to a passing maid, "where are Massimo and Xanxus? They were supposed to meet me, Dad, and Enrico at the airport yesterday."

Massimo was the last of Timoteo's sons Vito has yet to see. The maid politely said, "I believe Sir Massimo is helping with Sir Xanxus' studies."

Xanxus must still be a snot-nosed kid, then. Federico narrowed his eyes at the maid and asked, "Why aren't one of you helping out Xanxus? Massimo hates studying."

Obviously intimidated, the maid nervously shuffled her feet. "Sir Massimo sent us away. He wanted to handle the responsibility personally."

Rolling his eyes, presumably at the display of fear, Federico dismissed the servant and marched down the hall. Before long, he made his way to one of the upper floors and stopped short in front of a door. Vito could hear loud knocking from the other side.

Entering the room, there was someone about Federico's age sitting at the foot a bed. He was drinking with and laughing erratically. The dumping sound was coming from the closet door, which was barricaded with a couple of chairs and a dresser.

"Brother!" the guy who had to be Massimo greeted Federico. "You've arrived just in time!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Federico questioned harshly. Looking between Massimo and the makeshift barricade that shuddered with each knock, he added, "Did you lock Xanxus inside his own closet?"

"Made a little bet with myself," Massimo slurred out as he drank again straight from his bottle. "How long will it take for the pissant peasant to use his wrathful flames to break out?"

"And how fucking long has it been?" Federico asked, already moving to clear out the furniture.

"As of to–day," Massimo glanced at a wall clock, "twenty-seven hours, fifty-two minutes, forty seconds and counting!"

Vito had to stop and process that for a second. Xanxus was crazy, but having a brother who did something like that to him? No wonder he's so messed up that he'd strap his dad into the Gola Mosca suit and for a roundabout, drawn-out way of killing him.

Federico didn't stop to confront Massimo until the closet door was eventually pulled open. There was also the Vongola emblem on the door. It glowed with flames briefly sparking when Federico pressed his hand against it. Once the emblem faded into nothingness, out stumbled child Xanxus, who was about seven or eight years old. His eyes struggled to adjust to the light. His fist was burning with the Flame of Wrath, though very weakly. Massimo must have put a seal on the closet door to prevent Xanxus from outright breaking out.

Xanxus started shoving punches at Federico's legs. Federico tried to restrain Xanxus to get him to stop struggling. "Hey, hey!" Federico said loudly. "Calm down! You're out now. You can stop trying to break your hand, now." Once Xanxus' flames were put out, you could clearly see the bloody bruises.

The panic in Xanxus eyes slowly gave way to a very fleeting relief at being freed that gave way to a look of utter rage and hate. Once Xanxus stopped struggling against Federico, Federico had to still keep Xanxus back from attacking Massimo, who had been snickering incessantly ever since the closet doors opened.

"Looks like I win the bet!" Massimo exclaimed as he held up his flask, as if for a toast. "Took longer than twenty-four hours! Guess the peasant's really a worthless charity case."

With one hand keeping Xanxus in place, Federico turned to face Massimo with his own enraged, disapproving look. "What the fuck is wrong with you? He's a kid, for Christ's sake. We don't go after kids, including one of our own fucking brothers!"

The gaiety in Massimo's eyes and body language disappeared as he stood straight up and leveled his own ferocious glare. "It's utter bull that Xanxus is a Vongola," he grumbled. "He isn't one of us. He's a street rat. Do you really think father was dumb enough to impregnate some nameless whore?"

Xanxus looked ready to pummel Massimo to death. Before he could, Federico was already delivering a haymaker across Massimo's face.

Then, no one could do a thing to stop Federico from continuously punching and kicking Massimo. The drunken Vongola tried fighting back and swinging his bottle around, but Federico just grabbed the bottle and smashed it against Massimo's skull.

All the while, Xanxus watched intently as Federico beat Massimo half to death.

When Federico was finally done, he nonchalantly strolled to the dresser. He pulled out a white shirt to start rubbing some of the blood off his fingers. "Locking a kid in a closet for over a day," Federico mused in disgust. "That's some psychopathic shit, Massimo. There's no meaning to doing that, you shitty fucking piece of trash."

Massimo moaned something unintelligible. Xanxus had been staring at him during the beating. Now, he was staring solely at Federico.

"Go on and find a maid, kid," Federico said. "She'll take care of you." Once only the dried blood remained on his hands, Federico dumped the rag over Massimo's face. "Leave him to rot. Dad's gonna be hearing about this. Don't you worry."

When Federico left the room, there in the hall was Reborn leaning against the wall.

"Did you fucking know about what was happening in there?" Federico heatedly asked before tossing the question into the wind. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. You do know that I had to do what I did to make the point hit home, right?"

Reborn shrugged. "I've never had any brothers, so sibling rivalries and hostilities aren't my forte. Still, as a prospective boss, you adequately delivered your point to your future subordinate."

With a satisfied nod counter-balanced with a foul frown, Federico turned his back to Reborn and walked away.

When Federico stepped through another doorway, he was suddenly out of the mansion and in a hotel room. Vito's senses were a bit wonky at the moment, but he could feel some of the warmth and the scent of the beach. Federico must be on some tropical vacation.

He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt just like Joe's.

There was a woman leaning over a balcony. Federico walked behind her and rested his arms around her. She reciprocated his embrace as they shared a kiss. Together, they watched the waves of the ocean pull back and forth as other vacationers and beach-goers had their fun along the seashore.

The woman had her hair cut to hang just above her shoulders with some braids tying around to the back of her head. Below one of her sharp blue eyes was a small orange birthmark over her cheekbone.

"This place ain't too half-bad," Federico drawled out, hugging the woman slightly tighter. "Shame that we gotta be heading back to Italy soon."

"You won't find me disagreeing," the woman said, though her voice was quieter, more hesitant. Federico sighed.

"Aria," he began in a gentle tone, "do you really want me to say it again?"

God. Aria. Aria. Where has Vito head the name Aria before? Man, Reborn would kick his ass if he could for not remembering it exactly. Vito was pretty sure Aria was the name of the head of another decently sized mob family back whose home base is in Italy.

Aria slightly pushed Federico away to disband the hug so that they could meet eye-to-eye. "We both know we can't simply leave our families behind. We have too many responsibilities, too many promises we've already made that we must stay true to."

"But what about the responsibility we both have right here?" Federico draped his hands along Aria's sides and drew circles around her stomach.

Shit, Federico got someone pregnant? Vito saw no wedding rings anywhere. The last time Vito checked, the Vongola were pretty strict on monogamous relationships for its heirs to make sure there wasn't an outbreak of Vongola Boss candidates in the world.

When Aria didn't speak, Federico pressed on. "Shamal owes me a lotta of favors, and Iemitsu is getting more and more sway in CEDEF. I've been talking with Enrico, and even he's onboard for helping us if it means he gets to be the Decimo."

"The Giglio Nero Family still needs its own heir," Aria murmured, hugging herself. She walked inside their hotel room. Federico shut the doors to the balcony while she sat on the edge of their bed. "There will be great controversy if someone of both Vongola and Giglio Nero blood is born, but we can make it work. I am confident we can."

"Maybe we can," Federico conceded, "or maybe we can't. But we don't have to worry about any of that. I've seen the way Reborn looks at Luce. You've seen it, too. They really aren't old farts no matter how much shit we give them. The Giglio Nero won't have any problems with getting another heir for the next generation."

Aria looked particularly unhappy now. "My mother barely survived giving birth to me."

"And Reborn's got his Sun Flames. Plus, Shamal still owes me plenty. They can make sure everything goes smoothly while we make our exit."

Leaning back slightly, Aria held her head high and crossed her arms. "What brought this on, Federico? This idea to run away from the mafia and begin new lives? What we did –"

"Don't say it was a mistake," Federico cut in. Being held at gunpoint by armed thugs back when he practically a kid hadn't fazed Federico, but it looked like this Aria woman held a lot more sway over him. Almost desperately so, he pleaded, "Please."

"– we should have accounted for more of the... unpredictability," Aria finished diplomatically. "Regardless, ever since we were born, our guardians and tutors have been teaching us to take their places, to become bosses. You were already vetting for potential Guardians before Reborn began properly teaching you how to go about it. You must confess how preposterous it is to throw away all the training and the responsibilities we have been given and promised, child or no child."

"This didn't come out of the blue," Federico said as he kneeled before Aria and held her hand. "I've thought about this kind of stuff – leaving the mafia, turning straight, forgetting about Dying Will Flames and the Tri-Ni-Set –" What the hell was the Tri-Ni-Set? "– for longer than you might think. Life as a mobster is the one thing I know I'm good at, but at the end of the day, it's a bloody business. The only way lives like ours can end is in a shallow grave or sleeping with the fishes. If we're lucky. Some don't even get the luxury of a quick and easy shot to the head."

"The risk of such fates never fades," Aria said pointedly. "Our heritage guarantees us that."

"Doesn't mean we can't try to fight fate," Federico insisted. "I used to think that being a Vongola meant that I should just stick with the family, work in the business and never think twice about doing anything different this time around. But meeting you, being with you, reminded me how much we can miss out in life by staying as criminals and mobsters."

"Don't use those words," Aria demanded harshly. "We might call ourselves mafia, and the world may see us as criminals, but the Arcobaleno, the Vongola – we are so much more than that."

Federico stared flatly at Aria. Eventually, Aria broke off from the look first. Federico held her closer as he lowly said, "You know what I was before. You've seen what's in store for your future. We've already given plenty for the family." He said "family" without a lot of affection for the word. "Haven't we? We deserve something for ourselves, something better for our child."

Vito guessed Aria was finally convinced when she and Federico lightly pressed their lips against each other.

"Chaos," greeted Rebo– What the fuck?! Where the hell did Reborn come from? He was just casually leaning on the side of a desk, sipping from a coffee cup in his hand.

Aria and Federico had pretty much the same reaction Vito head, hopping back in surprise. They even instinctively drew out their guns, though they lowered them when they saw who had interrupted them.

"The fuck are you doing here, Reborn?" Federico snarked. "Aren't you supposed to be on a job on the other fucking side of the planet?"

"My own assignments are irrelevant," Reborn said coolly with an unnerving smile. "Your plans to desert, on the other hand –"

"You have been listening since the start," Aria stated. "Does my mother –"

"Luce's business and your own, Aria, are also ultimately irrelevant." Reborn eyed Federico with a careful gaze, still coldly smiling. "I am still under contract with the Vongola Family as your home tutor. Dereliction of duty on your part in any capacity damages your career and mine, you do realize."

"Uncle Reborn," Aria began – Vito never imagined Reborn having a niece – before Federico interjected.

"It can work," he asserted. "One of my brothers as the next boss, you and Luce together – everything finally falls into fucking place. You're smart enough to see it, Reborn. All you have to do is turn a blind eye and let us do what we have to do."

"If you truly think you can orchestrate such a plan of faking your deaths under Timoteo's watchful eye and his meticulous Guardians," Reborn said in a familiar lecturing tone, "then you vastly underestimate their perceptiveness and overestimate your own network of allies and followers. No matter what your unique insight yields, Aria, and no matter what experience you retain from your last life, Federico, you both belong to your respective families. They will never let you go."

"The Vongola fucking Primo did it," Federico pointed out.

"And his bloodline has come full circle with Iemitsu Sawada joining CEDEF," Reborn countered. "Your child and his or her descendants are destined to do the same. You cannot simply shrug off your responsibilities and duties without consequences."

Federico looked ready to bring up his gun again. So did Aria as they held steadfastly clutched each other's hands. "I have a chance to start over," Federico nearly growled, "away from the goddamn mob and with the woman I love, with a child that doesn't have to experience any of the bullshit any of us has gone through in the mafia. You don't think I won't do everything in my power to make that happen?"

"Oh, you will," Reborn said in an almost teasing tone. "I don't doubt your resolve. Not now. It is your success that remains in question." After taking a sip from his coffee, Reborn stopped leaning and stood straight. He pulled a hand out of his pocket, holding his Leon gun until the chameleon shifted back to its natural form and crawled up Reborn's arm. "You will likely fail miserably in your plans... without the help of your kind and considerate home tutor, that is."

Wait, what? Reborn always made it a point that he was going to make Vito the Vongola Decimo, but way back when, he promised to make sure his first student wouldn't become the boss?

"You can't help us, Uncle Reborn," Aria said. "You'll only endanger your own reputation. Willful ignorance will ensure we don't incite the wrath of our parents and bosses on any of our friends and former colleagues once we leave."

"And now you misjudge my own abilities." Now, Rebon was giving a genuine smile. "Federico, remind Aria of my well-earned title, please?"

Visibly relaxing and exhaling a weary sight, Federico deadpanned, "The World's Strongest Hitman."

"And as the World's Strongest Hitman," Reborn smirked with an arrogance that his underdeveloped baby form wouldn't do justice, "deceiving and fooling the Vongola Family, the Giglio Nero Family, and the mafia world at large of your deaths and ensuring you successfully live a crimeless, peaceful life under new identities will be another impressive feat to add to my list."

Sounded like Reborn was helping out Federico and Reborn just for the excitement of the job and the pride at successfully getting it done. Vito liked a good win as much as the next guy, but this was bordering on Ryohei's and Hibari's obsessions on getting into good brawls for the sake of them.

"Thank you," Federico said. It was the most honest, calm, and transparent Vito has seen him be. "We'll owe you big time, Reborn."

"No thanks or debts are necessary. You owe me nothing. What kind of caring uncle and stupendous home tutor would I be if I left my niece and my student run astray?"

Aria pulled Reborn into an appreciative hug. Reluctantly, Federico joined in.

When Federico stepped back, they were no longer in a luxurious tropical hotel room. Now, they were in a dark warehouse, the same kind back in Empire City that was used for drug trades, interrogations, and whacking guys without the need for subtlety.

Reborn and Aria stood back in the shadows as a single overhanging light bulb illuminated the center of the warehouse. There, Federico was going to work with... with Shamal.

Doc was a perv, but unless he moved on from flirting and outright groped one of Vito's friends, Vito would never have gone out of his way to see him so bruised, bloodied, and brutalized. Shamal with all his injuries was tied to a chair as Federico kept beating him bare-handed.

"That's enough," Reborn commanded. Federico didn't listen. "You still need him conscious enough to speak."

Federico only stopped when Aria stepped in. Man, everyone looked worse off than in the last scene. They all had bloodstains on their clothes, got bags under the eyes, and looked generally tired and pissed off.

Weakly, Shamal lifted his head to directly stare at Aria. With an expressionless face, Aria asked, "Who hired you?"

Shamal coughed something indiscernible. Federico grabbed the back of Shamal's neck and let out what looked like Sun Flames. He and Reborn must have a whole lot more in common than at first glance.

"Who hired you?" Aria repeated.

Shamal looked and probably felt utterly defeated, but he answered, "They'll do worse to me if I tell you."

Federico put a hold around Shamal's neck, applying pressure to Shamal's throat with his arms. "Do you really believe that?" Federico questioned with a grunt. "You know that I can do worse than this already."

"What did they offer you?" Aria continued with her interrogation. "Why did you betray our trust?"

Strained tears started coming down Shamal's reddened cheeks. "I wanted to help you," he whimpered. "You know I would have, but they were watching you two since the start. They knew, and they got to me first. I couldn't do anything to stop them."

"Who?" Aria motioned for Federico to release Shamal. The doctor gasped for air.

"I – can't. Please, Aria. I'm sorry."

"Who was the target meant to inflict the most damage to? Us? The Vongola Family as a whole? The Giglio Nero? Will they be targeting Federico's brothers next? My mother?"

Aria slowly reached a hand forward. Shamal shut his mouth and bowed his head, looking ready to submit himself to more torture. He wasn't gonna talk. Vito could see it.

A door on one side of the warehouse was pushed open. Reborn took out his gun and fired a warning shot, the round rebounding off the door sill and hitting the floor between the feet of the newcomer. "Approach slowly," Reborn ordered.

The stranger with a slightly hunched back walked into the light. When he did, Reborn immediately holstered his gun. Aria stared with wide eyes, shocked, and Federico stumbled a bit on his feet, appearing flabbergasted at the new arrival.

Vito almost didn't recognize him. It was a younger yet still elderly Timoteo. Give it another decade and a half maybe, and he'd be looking just like he is in the present times. As he looked now in this memory, he was strongly built boss who easily commanded the same respect and deference that Vito had felt obliged to give him when he was released from the Mosca suit.

This wasn't quite the weary old Timoteo, though. Not yet. This was the Vongola Nono. The Don. A man who can just as easily be your shining savior or the devil incarnate, depending on how you tread around him.

"You knew," Federico said absently, stupefied. "You knew about me and Aria." He turned to Reborn, but Nono quickly shut down any thoughts of Reborn selling them out.

"I am not blind," Nono said. "You loved Luce's daughter. You held Reborn's favor. I had hoped your practical and analytical side would overcome your hubris in abusing these relationships. Obviously, I misjudged you all, so I was forced to take matters into my own hands."

"That is how you rationalize it to yourself?" Aria challenged incredulously. "Forcing Shamal to – to –"

"I read the medical reports. Your reproductive system remains intact. You can still have another child."

"I did not have to lose a child in the first place!" Aria passionately declared.

"Miscarriages are not uncommon –"

"Don't you fucking call it that," Federico said. He sounded just as angry and dark as he when he beat Massimo, but his voice was a lot lower, which made him all the more intimidating. "Miscarriage, stillborn – it's all bullshit. Shamal killed our kid before he was even born. You gave the order. Don't pretend otherwise."

Jesus Christ.

And Nono had the fucking balls to shrug uncaringly, as if what he did was the most common thing in the world. "Are you surprised?"

Federico took one step forward; no doubt to start throwing punches. However, Reborn was on him in milliseconds, holding Federico back by grabbing his shoulder. Reborn acted as a physical barrier in front of him and Aria from getting any closer to Nono.

"Get out of my way," Federico snarled.

"The Vongola Nono has spoken," Reborn said. His voice was without emotion. He was back to being the cold-hearted hitman instead of the overbearing home tutor. "I'm sorry. It's over."

"The hell it is!"

"Come now, Federico," Nono called out as he raised his voice, projecting loudly. "Luce can do what she pleases with her family, but we could never simply let you walk away. All of your aspirations in surpassing Enrico for the Vongola Decimo title, all the training, tools, and money invested into your career – to abandon it all and the work you've invested? Your strength, your intelligence – let them atrophy and become obsolete in a civilian's manner of living? Disrupting the ancient, sacred tradition of keeping the Giglio Nero and Vongola bloodlines separate? The conflicts that will arise on whose right to the Vongola Rings and the Mare Rings is superior – Disputes such as those alone can lead to open, global warfare in the mafia."

"If you had just let us walk," Federico said in that low tone of his, "everything would have been fine. We had safeguards. Contingencies."

"If I had let you walk," Nono shot back, "I would be losing a precious asset and a worthy successor the Vongola name. You are the best and most capable of my sons. Why would I let you walk away?"

"Because you have other sons who can get the job done. Who actually want to get the job done."

"I don't deny their allegiance," Nono said shortly. "I will not deny your unique Flame either."

At the mention of Flames, the good old Hyper Dying Will Flame flashed on Federico's forehead.

It wasn't a purely orange fire like Vito's was. It was more an amber color, the same shade that accompanied Brasi when he shifted into flames and transformed into different Dying Will-infused objects. Vito assumed Brasi just used Sky Flames with a slightly different tint. Guess there was more to it than that.

There was a pistol on a nearby table alongside sharp objects and other torturing tools. Federico's hand twitched in the direction of it. "Enrico is a genius," he said. "Massimo is an idiot most of the time, but no one can beat him in chess or a straight brawl when he's sober. Xanxus has his wrath. I'm just a killer who is sick of killing."

"Enrico lacks the ambition to invest in expansion or growth for the Vongola," Nono argued. "Massimo, as you said, is a drunken fool. Xanxus' role to play is in the Varia, not as the Don. You, Federico, with your drive, your will, and your special flame is the greatest guarantee for ensuring the Vongola Family remains prosperous after I am gone. Besides, I did not employ Reborn to be your tutor solely for your own benefit."

Still stubbornly recalcitrant, Federico dashed for the gun, as did Aria for the handgun next to it. Unfortunately for them, Nono revealed what looked like an antique walking stick or scepter, with its own Sky Flame burning brightly at the top. With a dramatic wave of the scepter, Federico's and Aria's hands, feet, and most of their limbs were frozen solid in ice; Zero Point Breakthrough. The couple were stuck in place and couldn't move an inch.

Federico's Dying Will Flame was still burning without any sign of stopping. Tense and breathing heavily, he pulled at his restraints. Small cracks began to spread across the ice, but who knows how long it would take to break free with how slow-going those cracks were being made.

Reborn remained in the shadows while Nono calmly approached the two. "Son," the boss began almost in a placating tone.

"I'm not your son," Federico grunted. Vito was struck by some nostalgia at that.

Federico shut his mouth and became still as a statue when Timoteo extended a finger just above Federico's forehead. "You will stay in the mafia under the Vongola banner," Timoteo said gently, "and Aria shall keep her distance from anyone of Vongola blood. If you do not submit to my rule, then I will have to take drastic measures in... restructuring your current state of mind."

Was Nono threatening to mess with Federico's memories with a seal?

The ice entrapping one of Aria's hands suddenly broke apart. There was a fire in her eyes – not actual Dying Will fire – that reminded Vito of Adel's fierce resolve when it came to protecting and uplifting the Simon Family. Aria managed to grab a gun, but Nono clutched her wrist to prevent her from aiming it. Regardless, Aria let off a lucky shot that hit the ice around Federico's hand. Flames ferociously roaring, Federico moved to deliver a punch at Nono.

After a short flash of light, Federico was a bloody, broken mess leaning against a wall.

They weren't in the warehouse anymore, though. It wasn't the Nono who had done this to Federico. He was in some old wooden cabin with some overgrown tree branches breaching from the outside. Federico was a little older again. Nono, Aria, Shamal, and Reborn were nowhere to be found. In their place, Iemitsu was doing his damnedest to keep Federico alive.

"Just work with me already," Iemitsu said in a worried tone. Vito gave an involuntary shudder. If there was anything that really brought Vito back to his time fighting in the war, it was this scene of Iemisu messing with bandages and trying to not let Federico's guts spill out. If a medic hadn't kept Vito alive for long enough as he did, he might have never returned home to Empire Bay. "Damn it, Federico. I can't help you unless you help yourself!"

An explosion blew out one side of the cabin. Iemitsu and Federico were nonplussed. Through the smoke walked a teenage Xanxus, armed with his X-Guns. He had a lotta cuts on him, his clothes and skin stained with splotches of red, but his stance was just as concentrated and nimble as it was when Vito fought him. "The Arcobaleno have arrived," he barked, "but Tyr and Enrico are surrounded. They need reinforcements while..." Xanxus trailed off. He stared at Federico before glaring at Iemitsu. "What is taking so long, you shitty CEDEF dog?"

"I can't help it if he won't use his Sun Flame!" Iemitsu snapped. Under his breath, he muttered. "Seriously, Federico. What happened between you and Shamal? If he was here, he'd have you patched up hours ago."

Did Iemitsu not know what Nono had made Shamal do?

Another figure entered through the smoke. It was Reborn. Jeez, does pre-Arcobaleno Reborn not age? He barely looks any older than when he first met Federico.

"Go support the Varia," Reborn ordered. He was practically glowing in yellow light, his Sun Flame manifesting as he stood over Federico. "I will keep him safe."

There was a battle going on beyond the claustrophobic confines of the cabin. The sounds of battle cries, gunfire, and so on were echoing back. After exchanging distrustful glances with one another, Iemitsu and Xanxus left to join the pandemonium.

Federico pointedly refused to meet Reborn's gaze. "Why have you given up?" Reborn asked.

"You sided with Nono," Federico curtly spat. "You don't get to say anything to me."

"I am still your home tutor."

"My keeper. Slave driver. Nono's poster boy. World's fucking most amazing contract killer. Home tutor? Fuck off."

"You know what the cost of blatantly moving against the Vongola Boss may be," Reborn said softly. "I taught you what would be expected. I trained you how to go about outmaneuvering the Don of the family, and how to become him. When our plans fell through and we were beholden to the Vongola Boss' wrath, the only viable choice we had was submission."

"Wasn't a choice. It was an ultimatum." Weakly, Federico gestured to his gory form. "Never got to decide how I died last time. Now, I get to choose. Don't you fucking take that away from me. Not after what you let Nono take from me."

Federico must still remember his past life after whatever happened in the previous memory. Aria must have been cut off from his life and vice versa.

Still was a fucked-up thing Nono did to their kid, but there was a lot of regret in his eye when he and Vito briefly spoke. Maybe Timoteo was remorseful. Still was plenty fucked-up, though.

"I am not here to take anything from you," Reborn went on. "I am here to convince you."

"Of what? Enough with the circle-jerk. The fuck do you want from me?"

"Remember what I told you before, Federico. Under my tutelage, you will become Vongola Decimo."

"What does being the Decimo matter to me?" Federico replied. "It's never gonna change, staying in the mafia. Just gonna end up dead like last time before I make it much farther."

"Only if you allow yourself to fall so far," Reborn countered. He upped the intensity of his flames to keep Federico conscious. "You only reaped the risks and rewards subject to a common soldier in the mafia in your past life. You have experienced the privileges and responsibilities of an heir to a formidable crime family. You have always been subject to another's will. You, Aria, and I should have realized that becoming civilians would have not changed your status. You would still be subject to the rules put forth by traditional law."

"At least I'd have a decent shot at living a normal life," Federico coughed, "away from this Dying Will insanity."

"Yet you must make great use of your Dying Will Flame in order to become the Vongola Decimo."

"I don't give a shit about being the boss anymore!" Federico snarled.

Reborn didn't lose his cool. "You care about power. Freedom. Being in control of yourself and your fate. Being free to do whatever you want. Timoteo holds that luxury, of making whatever he desires an irrefutable and irreversible reality, because he is the Vongola Boss. Regardless of your brothers' claims to the title, and of your past transgressions, you still have the potential to rule the Vonogla Family."

Federico's enraged frown and narrowed eyes lessened to a beaten, fatigued contemplative thin line and half-lidded eyebrows. He was tired. Too damn tired to deal with any more bullshit. Vito knew the feeling.

"Thought I could do it," Federico mumbled. "Thought I could make it work. Actually do something better with my life this time around. Lost my head with Aria. Lost my head with Timoteo. Turns out that I'm a fuck-up of a rat and nothing but a hotheaded criminal full of shit. Probably should've died the once and never woke up. I just keep screwing myself over and over again. At least if I die here, I'll only be screwing over myself. Ain't gonna be dragging anyone else under the mud with me."

"Possibilities end in death," Reborn said. "As the Vongola Decimo, the possibilities are endless. No matter how bloody or violent it gets, no matter how many friends and family you lose, no matter how much you many times you lose faith in yourself; you can do anything as your own boss."

Misty-eyed, Federico finally made eye contact with Reborn. "Tried to be my own boss. Didn't work out."

"Then be a better boss." Reborn had the audacity to smirk goodheartedly. Why was Vito even surprised? Of course Reborn would do that if he wanted to. "You were given a second chance. You've had wins and losses, but it isn't over yet. Far from it. Don't let this chance completely waste away before you finally create something of substance out of your miserable life."

Then, the sounds of battling and fighting ceased into silence.

They gave way to some soft piano music. The cabin and smoke were gone. This was a ballroom. Guys and dames in suits and dresses were scattered across the dance floor and dining tables.

This was a wedding. Vito recognized the scenery from Mama's old picture book. This was Iemitsu's and Mama's wedding day. Mama was right there, kissing Iemitsu on the cheek before leaving their table. To use the bathroom, she told him. Iemitsu smiled fondly as she left.

"She's a keeper," said Federico, who sat near Iemitsu. Federico was jotting down scribles on a notebook. He lit a cigar and offered another one up that Iemitsu took without hesitation.

"Lucked out, didn't I?" Iemitsu chuckled a bit. "I heard that Massimo's considering tying the knot with his girl pretty soon. You and Xanxus should think about looking for someone, too. Timoteo has been looking favorably on Enrico ever since he got married."

Yeah, Iemitsu was definitely kept in the dark about what Shamal did to Aria. Federico's reaction to him was shrugging noncommittally. "Been busy with other stuff. Started negotiating on a few mergers. Ever heard of the Simon and Gesso Families?"

"Don't know about Simon. Gesso sounds familiar, but," Iemitsu waved some of the smoke he spewed out away. "Never mind that. I don't want to delve too deeply into business today. We'll have plenty of time for that next month."

"Says you. You've got your honeymoon. I have nothing but business on my hands." Federico held up his notebook. "How does this look?"

It was a sketch of the Vongola emblem. Iemitsu sighed. "I looks accurate, but I don't know if an artistic touch is necessary for creating seals. Not even sure on all the mechanics behind them and their relation to Dying Will Flames. You'll have to ask Timoteo." Iemitsu paused for a second. "Actually, the Giglio Nero might know something about –"

"Forget I said anything," Federico cut off. He went back to his sketching and notes.

Iemitsu set down his cigar and stared at Federico with concern. "You need a vacation, man. Ever since Reborn saved you during that incident last year – I mean, you got out of your slump after you and Aria separated, but this is kind of going too far in the other direction."

"It's been working for me," Federico said with a dangerous undertone. "It's what Reborn does. He didn't earn his title through subpar performance. He worked for it."

"Yeah, yeah," Iemitsu said dismissively, though not abrasively. "Reborn's the World's Strongest Hitman, and you're gonna be the World's Finest Killer. Just don't forget that there's more to life than the business, or you're going to burn yourself out."

Federico snorted, cracking a smile, "Says the Young Lion of the Vongola."

"Hey, just because I'm a fast learner and a good schmoozer doesn't mean I don't need my day offs," Iemitsu said jokingly. "You need yours, too. I hear San Francisco's a nice place this time of year. There's this place in Chinatown that Colonnello showed me that serves the best –"

"I hate Chinese," Federico said. He shoved his notebook into a pocket, adjusted his tie, and leaned back against his chair. "I have a question for you, Iemitisu, and I need you to answer honestly. No bullshit."

Curious, Iemitsu leaned back in a seemingly relaxed position as well. "What is it?"

"Is Nana pregnant?"

Iemitsu arched an eyebrow at that. "No, she's not. She wants us to have a few kids, yeah, but we're taking the proper precautions and waiting for Timoteo's sanctions. Why are you asking me that?"

"Because you're my friend," Federico answered solemnly. "I can't name anyone else I know who hasn't tried to stabbed me in the back or has too many fucking psychotic mental problems to go to for legitimate advice, except for Aria. She was my girl, but you were my brother and my equal more than any of my actual brothers, Xanxus included. I want to make sure you know that."

At the compliment, Iemitsu started blushing in embarrassment. "Uh, thanks, man. I appreciate that, but what does Nana being pregnant have to do with our friendship?"

"I just wanted to make sure. A lot of people are going to die soon. Your wife is going to be heartbroken, so the least I can do for you is make sure any child of yours doesn't grow up fatherless. The less people left to miss you once you're gone, the better."

"What do you –"

Federico whipped out a gun and popped a round right in Iemitsu's face.

Vito didn't quite to expect to see that.

Iemitsu's still alive, obviously. The bullet must have been deflected off his skull, like how Lincoln Clay survived his would-be execution. That, or some other Dying Will bullshit kept him alive.

This must be Federico's opening move in starting the civil war in the Vongola. Iemitsu was likely targeted 'cause of his Vongola blood. If Federico's the only potential heir left, then he'd be the only one actually able to use the Vongola Rings.

The scene changed again. It was back in the Vongola mansion. This time, furniture was overturned, blood and bullet holes stained the walls, fallen beams and debris scattered around, and there were plenty of bodies lying on the floor.

Nono was pinned to the ground with his back on the middle of an ornate carpet in the center of the room. He was gasping for deep breaths. Through his chest was his scepter stabbing straight though.

Federico was a few feet away. He looked a lot more worse off than Nono, but he was still crawling across the floor with a switchblade in his hand. Federico was closing in for the kill.

Unfortunately for him Reborn stomped a foot over Federico's wrist, stopping him in his tracks. Reborn's left arm was in a makeshift cast. Leon was in his gun form, but his green skin also extended over most of Reborn's hand. Blood was dripping all over Reborn's dominant hand, so maybe it was too injured for him to use on its own, hence Leon spreading over it. The chameleon and the hitman were more in sync than Vito has ever seen a master and a pet be.

The tutor-student relationship between Reborn and Federico was a far cry in comparison, it looked like.

"Why?" Reborn muttered, looking the most lost and out of control of the situation that Vito has ever seen him. Reborn knew when to raise his voice and project, how to funnel and direct his dissatisfaction and disapproval, but this was something else. "Why?!" he exclaimed. "I said I would help you become the Vongola Decimo. The title was your birthright. You didn't have to start a needless war for it!"

"Fuck... off," Federico blurted, still struggling to break his wrist free. "After what Nono did, you didn't think there'd still be hell to pay?"

"It's not just about him," Reborn snarled. "Iemitsu, CEDEF, the Varia, your brothers – you put the entire Vongola at risk! And for what? If the fighting goes any further, any amateur carless street gang will be capable of destroying what is left! The authorities can dismantle everything the mafia has ever built! The connections, the infrastructure –"

"I don't give two-fucking shits anymore!" Federico growled back. "All my fucking life, everyone's always been telling me what I could and couldn't do. Who to kill, why I should. Who to follow, who I could be with… I've been through enough of that kind of shit one lifetime too many. This entire war was my second chance to get what I deserve. You fucking showed me that, Reborn. What? You thought that after convincing me to follow after my fucked-up dreams that I wouldn't actually try to make them come true?"

"This wasn't what I fucking had in mind!" Reborn screeched.

Wow. Was this the first time Vito has heard Reborn swore since he met him? It was in a flashback, but still. Reborn not in control of himself was... not something Vito was used to seeing.

"I just didn't want you to die so needlessly," Reborn whispered, now with some more poise and restraint. "You were my student. I taught you everything I know. I wanted you to live, to become the best that you could be. You had everything you could have possibly needed to do that, but now you've destroyed so much of it. There's only so much left. With you slaughtering the Varia, coercing Xanxus to help you – nearly killing Iemitsu, your father –"

"My father was a man of honor," Federico cut in. "Don't you fucking compare Timoteo Vongola to him."

Reborn didn't say anything in return.

After a tense silence, Federico finally let go of his knife. Reborn removed his foot, and Federico rolled to lie on his spine.

"You were a better father to me, Reborn," Federico mused quietly. "I wish we could'a seen eye-to-eye on this. Really wish we did. I'm sorry we didn't."

"You're not the only one," Reborn replied.

With a gasp, Nono pulled his scepter out of his gut. It looked and must have felt extremely difficult for him to stand and to keep the blood from dripping out, but he still managed make his way over to Reborn and Federico. He stood over Federico. Now, Nono looked less like the all-powerful boss and more like a shell-shocked old man who had no idea what to say to his son.

"I have made grave mistakes, Federi–"

"Don't you fucking call me that," Federico huffed. "You know my name."

"That man has died once already. He and his antiquated memories led you to this. He –"

"Stop fucking denying it," Federico said harshly. "You always wanted me to be your best soldier, your replacement even, but you could never get it through your head that I wasn't going to keel over and kiss your ass. I ain't ever gonna forget who I am, seal or no seal. Who I am is never going to change, so if you've still got any balls left like the badass boss you used to be, then do what you gotta do. End it."

Timoteo, despite his injuries, stood taller, looking more refined and dignified even with tall the blood. "I am afraid not. Your crimes go beyond the wrath of the Vongola. Unfortunately, no matter what any of us may have wanted, your fate in this world lies with... the Vindice."

The expression that appeared on Federico's face was pure panic. "No."

"I am sorry," Timoteo said, and Vito felt like he actually meant it. "I am sorry for everything."

Federico didn't seem to care much for the apology. He put all of his attention on Reborn. "You're gonna let him do this to me? Are you serious?"

Reborn didn't say anything more. There was no emotion on his face. He was back to keeping up his professional image, minus the smile.

Federico started at Reborn for a while. Then, laughter came. Federico was laughing, hysterically. Vito felt himself shudder at the sound. He's met some messed up guys over the years. You eventually got used to guys who had their creepy sides and whose laughs sounded like something a cartoon villain would do. This, though? Vito barely knew Federico, but seeing him break down like this just plainly disturbed Vito.

"Fuck my life," Federico choked out through one last laugh. He opened up his hand. Something slid through his sleeve and onto his palm. Vito couldn't get a good look it. "When I get to hell, I'll save you all some good seats."

Reborn was tackling Timoteo to the floor when a boom and a flash of flames popped out.

A bomb. Federico just blew up a bomb.

What a fucked-up end to his story.

And now the memories have stopped. Vito was back to the darkness again. What was left? Was that all whoever had put a seal over VIto's face wanted him to see?

Then, Vito heard a pair of voices he couldn't quite place speak up.

"Can Federico still be revived, my love?"

"Nufufufu, of course. The Vongola will not yield its strongest contender for Vongola Decimo yet, my love."

Who the –

Vito didn't get any time to finish his thought. In this dark mindscape, he finally spotted another human being that wasn't in another flashback. There was someone sitting on the floor with his back facing Vito. Vito marched toward him and pulled him up by the collar of his shirt.

Vito faltered a bit when he realized he was grasping and looking at a mirror image of himself. Instead of his bomber jacket, the form of Tsunayoshi Sawada was wearing the Namimori Middle uniform, tie and dress shirt and all.

He almost had the same eyes as back then, in that confessional when the Vongola emblem had first burst apart. Only this time, there was no bright orange. His eyes were brown with tears trailing down his cheeks. The resolve was gone, replaced by sorrow.

"Who are you?" Vito asked him again.

"Do you really still want to stay in the mafia?" the copy asked back. "After seeing what Federico has gone through? How they always only want to use you? How can we protect our family in a world like that?"

He was avoiding the question. Vito pulled back a fist, readying a punch. "Who the fuck are you?" Vito repeated.

Vito never got an answer. Suddenly, the copy and the dark mindscape were gone. Vito was awake now.

"Tsuna!" Iemitsu screamed in relief, deafening Vito's right ear. Iemitsu must have broken the seal. To Vito's right, Joe was also freed of ice and was rubbing his head. He almost looked like he was fighting a hangover-induced headache. Brasi was there between them, barking happily as he glowed in amber flames. He must have broken apart the ice.

Reborn stood in front of them. Across the field, Xanxus was freed from his own ice restraints. Standing beside him was the guy who had put Vito and Joe out of commission. His Varia jacket was gone, revealing a familiar suit.

Years ago, Vito had promised himself that he would own a dozen suits just like that.

"I would have broken free without your interference," Xanxus said to his companion.

"Wrath Flames can't fucking burn through Dying Will ice, dipshit," came the response. Xanxus growled but backed down with a dismissive shrug.

"Wha zuh hells whu," Joe slurred his words. "Da voy – that voice. What is –?"

"Federico," Iemitsu breathed out.

That wasn't his name. His skin might be a bit darker, his build a bit leaner, but Vito could see beyond those miniscule differences. Vito knew exactly who he was.

"Henry," Vito said aloud. Iemitsu and Joe looked at him in surprise.

Henry Tomasino smiled. "Hey, Vito."


	12. Exit the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of the posting of this chapter, the entire story has gratefully been beta-read by Snowfire the Kitsune, author of the “Waking Up Nana” KHR story and its two sequels. Thanks for the help!

Vito could hardly fucking believe it.

The fancy red necktie that had been ruined and drenched in rat blood. That was a subtle sign Vito's Hyper Intuition should have caught. If Vito and Joe were reincarnated into this world, how bad were the odds of another guy they knew being reborn here, too?

Henry Tomasino was everything Vito had wanted to be: made man, slick suit, professional killer, and the attitude that just commanded respect.

Vito has mellowed out a bit since then, but goddamn, did seeing Henry again stir up some old instincts in Vito.

He could still remember the first time they met.

It was at Freddy's Bar. Joe had been having a smoke and a beer when Vito had walked in.

"Hey!" Joe had greeted him goodheartedly. "Where the hell you been?"

Vito had been working over that fat fuck Derek's workers who hadn't paid up what they had owed to him. "I came right over as soon as you called," Vito had said with a wink. He had made more cash in a few hours with barely any bruises than he could probably have ever hoped of making as a guy doing back-breaking manual labor, lifting boxes from place to place for hours and hours like those other schmucks. As Vito had took his seat across from Joe in their booth, Vito had asked, "What going on?"

In hushed, excited whispers, Joe had asked, "You remember the wise-guys we used to see when we was kids?"

With an inquisitive nod, Vito had responded with, "Yeah. Why?"

"The guys we're meeting here is one of them. His name's Henry Tomasino." With a small smile, Joe had conspiratorially added, "I think he's got something big for us."

Vito had been getting a little more interested, too. "Yeah? No shit?"

"Yeah. We're done with the small-time jobs," Joe had resolutely declared. "It's time to make some real scarole." Then Joe had looked at something behind Vito. He put out his cigarette and slipped out of his seat. "Here, he's coming... Don't say nothing stupid." In the same tone he had used when welcoming Vito, Joe had welcomed Henry with the just as much enthusiasm, except with a little more deference put into it. "Hey, Henry! How are ya?"

There Henry was, sauntering confidently in a fancy suit that Vito, once upon a time, could only dream about ever wearing with as much style and finesse. "Hiya Joe," Henry had replied as they sat on the same side of the booth. He had given Vito the typical suspicious and peering once-over stare any higher-ranking mobster would give to prospective new members. "This the guy?"

"Yeah, this is Vito, an old friend of mine."

Wanting to make a good first impression, Vito had quickly spoken up and said, "Good to meet you, Henry."

Like the professional he was, Henry hadn't even acknowledged Vito's words. Instead, he had kept staring at him as he asked Joe, "You vouch for him?"

"Absolutely, Henry," Joe had confirmed without a single lick of hesitation. "Trust him with my life."

Satisfied for now, Henry had leaned forward and rested his elbowed over their table. Vito and Joe had followed suit. "Okay," Henry had said, "listen. I got a job for you."

And with that, the rest was history.

Vito still remembered their last conversation, too.

Vito had been at Joe's place with a couple of their favorite girls and more than a few drinks in their systems. Up to that point, Henry had definitely lived up to his word on getting the three of them richer much quicker than Vito had thought they would. It wasn't a clean, straight journey over the years, but at the time, Vito had thought all their troubles were worth the rewards.

A clueless Vito had been planning on joining his favorite of the gals in the bathtub when Joe's phone had started ringing.

"Barbaro's Bordello," Vito had happily spoken into the speaker. "You got the money, we got the honeys."

"Vito, it's Henry." Vito could remember hearing Henry trying to hide his nervousness by deepening his voice and speaking slightly slower. He had wanted to sound in control. Little did any of them fucking know. "We got a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

Henry had sighed. "Eddie paid me a visit." Eddie Scarpa, the underboss to Carlo Falcone of the Falcone Crime Family. Vito had actually thought he was pretty decent boss – Eddie, that is. Carlo was an asshole. Vito had regularly reported directly to Eddie with only a sparse few meetings with the big Falcone boss himself. Vito still wondered whatever happened to Eddie after Falcone bit it and after Vito left Empire Bay. "Carlo knows about the deal," the deal having been the secret drug trading business Vito, Joe, and Henry had carried out and had kept secret from their bosses, "and he sent Eddie to pick up his cut."

"Uhhh, how much?"

"Sixty grand."

Vito had only had a three or four thousand on-hand after paying his old neighborhood a visit and being a little too charitable with his money. He only had five hundred after what he and the girls had done the night before. "Fuck!" Vito had muttered in frustration. "That much? What're we gonna do?"

"I dunno," Henry had admitted. "We don't even have enough left for Bruno." Bruno, the same loan shark scumbag that Vito's dad had borrowed money from, leaving the debt to Vito's mama and sister. "Meet me in the park," Henry added hurriedly. "I don't want to talk about this over the phone."

"Okay... I'll be right there."

And when Vito and Joe did get there, it was to see those sick dirtbag Tongs slicing Henry into a million thousand fucking pieces with their butcher knives.

Henry was a rat, sure, but a goddamn bullet would've been enough. Why do it like that? And in the middle of the park?

Of all the messed-up things Vito has seen, that moment was one of the ones that Vito could never stop reliving in his nightmares.

The last time Vito saw Henry, his bloodied face was staring absently toward the sky as he lay on the floor, dead. Now, Henry was standing tall and proud as he sent a kind smile Vito's and Joe's way.

"Henry?" Joe exclaimed in shock. Getting back his senses after being tripped up by Henry's seal, Joe's eyes darted to the form of Federico Vongola. Joe caught on quick to the man behind the face. "Holy cow! Henry? Henry Tomasino? Is that really you?"

"Hey, Joe," Henry greeted in the same polite and warm tone he had used with Vito.

"This is – I just – Can't freakin' believe it, man. I mean –" Joe kept on and on stopping and starting. He couldn't get out a clear sentence. Neither could Vito. Vito just clamped his mouth shut.

In the corner of his eye, Vito saw Iemitsu stand resolutely and walk to Reborn's side. Reborn hopped onto Iemitsu's shoulder as the two of them glowered darkly at Henry and Xanxus. On his forehead, Iemitsu's own Dying Will Flame flickered with a harsh intensity. Brasi stayed dutifully beside Vito's side, still pulsating with amber flames as he continued to heal Vito.

"I recovered your remains," Reborn spoke up, unflinchingly flat. "I buried your bones. How are you still alive?"

Henry snickered. "Had a couple guardian angels hovering over my shoulders. Didn't know it till after that day, but they've been rooting for me from the get-go. More than I can say for either of you."

"You tried to manipulate Tsuna into killing Timoteo," Iemitsu growled softly. Vito could see him tightly clenching his fists. "You broke Xanxus free from his confinement. You conspired for Xanxus to murder my son."

"Not exactly," Henry countered. He was smiling like a lunatic, exuding too much of a kind air and approachable outlook for the dire situation at hand. "You were a smart guy when I knew you, Iemitsu. All this time, you really couldn't figure out who your son really was? What he is? Or yours and Lal's student? Tsuna and Basil? Don't be an idiot. Those aren't their real names. They're just like me."

Iemitsu hesitated, risking a look away from Henry to stare at Vito and Joe. Joe was still tripping over his own words while Vito impassively stared back.

"We all could've worked well together," Henry continued, taking a step forward that instantaneously made Iemitsu and Reborn tense and get ready to pounce. "Shame that we had to have our reunion like this, but we always gotta make do with what we got, don't we?"

Iemitsu charged forward, fisting burning brightly in flames, with Reborn hopping off him and firing his Leon gun.

They sped completely pass the both of Xanxus and Henry. Reborn and Iemitsu were running along a path out of Namimori Middle. What the fuck?

Then Vito took a closer gander around them. Jobbers in Varia coats or the Cervello pink hair and domino masks were scattered around them in a circle. The Cervello had been casting illusions during and after the Ring Battles to make the school look like it wasn't getting destroyed with all the Flames spewing around. Now, though, it looked like they were putting an illusion over Vito, Joe, Xanxus, and Henry so that they could have a conversation in private.

Outside the circle, dozens more Varia mooks and lackeys were brawling with Vito's Guardians and his other followers and allies. Some of the main Varia members who could still stand on their own, like Bel and Levi, were joining in on the fight. Vito could see Mochida and Kusakabe jointly suplexing and elbow-dropping Bel. Takeshi was splashed with blood with each Varia minion he sliced open. The older Lambo was back around again and was acting like a miniature, mobile thunderstorm. The lightning strikes plus Hayato's dynamites made for a deafening, deadly combination.

Iemitsu and Reborn were still running out of the way of the battlefield. Viper was shadowing them, hovering right above them as they left. She must be keeping them under their own illusion.

When Xanxus raised his arm to aim his gun, Henry quickly blocked it with his own arm. "We did this your way," Henry said patiently. "You fucked up. It's my turn, now." Scoffing, Xanxusyielded and leaned against a still-standing lamp post that had somehow survived the fight undamaged.

Henry walked up to Joe and Vito, and damn, he was tall. He looked about in his early forties but with already some greying hair, kinda like how Vito was getting to be before Lincoln killed him. Way back then, Henry was only maybe fourteen or fifteen years older than them. In this world, he looked twice that much, a good thirty years older. Vito and Joe were only fifteen in this world, but Vito could still see the weariness with each step Henry took. He's been through a whole lot more shit than Joe's and Vito's miseries combined.

"How?!" Joe blurted out, his shock and surprise giving way to a barely-containable grin. "How are you here? All three of us, too. It's just so freakin' impossible! Heck, weren't you almost a practicing Catholic, Henry? What, did you broker a deal with those guardian angels to give us all a second chance?"

Obviously struck with nostalgia, Henry chuckled and lightly shook his head. "Something like that, actually. It's a long story. Ya see, if you remember back to the Vongola Primo's time –"

Henry might have answers for why they got reincarnated in the first place, but somewhere in the back of Vito's mind, he felt like there were other questions they needed answered first. "How long did you know about us?" Vito interrupted. "About me and Joe? Iemitsu being my dad and Joe's teacher? Reborn tutoring me? What we've been up to all this time?"

Joe lost some of his energy, calming down and nodding in assent with Vito. "Yeah. Iemitsu and Lal have been talking about a third-party maybe compromising Nono and helping Xanxus out from behind-the-scenes. It must have taken you a long time to plan this all out. Vito and I have been working with or are outright related to your old pals. Why didn't you ever try to contact us?"

You couldn't really see it unless you paid close attention, but Henry took in a deep breath. It was a subtle breathing exercise Reborn had decided Vito was a failure at completing. Henry must've been a different story.

"I showed you my memories," Henry solemnly began his explanation. "You know what I've lost, what I've had to go through. After my suicide run with the bomb, it took me a long time to heal, to get my body healthy enough to use my Flames again. When I was able, I wanted to see how everything's been going since I was gone. I did recon, spied on the Vongola, watched Iemitsu have the family he always wanted – having his Tuna-Fish with Nana, adopting Basil. I watched for a while, and it didn't take long for me to figure out who you two were."

"But you never approached us," Vito stated. Henry nodded in affirmation.

"I thought you guys could've had the second chance I never got," Henry said softly. "Sure, Vito, you've got your operation and your family in this city, and you have your friends in CEDEF, Joe. There were plenty of ups and downs for you guys over the years, but you were happy. You were building something for yourselves. You had all the drive and the ambition I had, but you were getting it done on your own terms, damning and ignoring whatever reins your bosses and rivals might've put on you. I didn't want to get in the way of that."

"Get in the way?" Joe questioned incredulously. "How could you get in the way?"

"I ratted Falcone out to the feds," Henry reminded Joe. "I was gonna try to bring you guys in on the deal I made, but then those crazy chinks made sure I never could. What I did must've royally screwed you guys over with the mob families. It can't have been a happy ending for either of you when you guys finally passed. I didn't want to remind you guys of what you lost. Besides, revealing myself to you would've been too dangerous, risking Timoteo to off either of you for being like me. There was just too much baggage to sort through, so I left you alone."

"Too much baggage?" Joe repeated rhetorically. "Are you kidding me, Henry? Screw the baggage. We were friends back in Empire Bay. We were building something there. We were gonna make the big bucks and be big bosses. Then we were dealt shoddy hands and paid for it. Now, we get to start over with completely clean slates. I don't care about you being a rat anymore. You're here, Vito's here, I'm here – We can finally start over together!"

Vito had already started over. He's already built something for himself.

"Call off your people," Vito said to Henry. He could hear Ryohei's battle cries as he uppercut at least four or five mooks in a row in quick succession. "Get them to stop trying to kill my own."

Henry fucking shrugged – just like how Nono had shrugged when he was accused of getting Henry's and Aria's baby killed. "First, you gotta promise me a few things," Henry replied. "First off, Xanxus becomes the Vongola Decimo."

"What?" Joe shot out before Vito could. "Why? Sure, I can see that you worked something out with Xanxus, but –"

"You knew about us," Vito cut in, staring intently at Henry, "and you still let Xanxus and the Varia try to kill my friends, my family. And they're still trying to kill them now."

Henry's formerly relaxed posture gave way to a more rigid stance as he broadened his shoulders. "Just work with me, Vito," Henry requested, in the "boss" tone of voice, no less. "You wanna rule the fucking world just as badly as I do, but you don't gotta be the Decimo to do it. I knew you'd beat Xanxus sooner or later, even if the arrogant little shit didn't believe me. We're done with the old rules, though. Xanxus gets to take the Vongola, blood or no blood. I'll take over the Giglio Nero Family. Joe can take over CEDEF and branch further to cut a bigger slice of the payroll. Vito, you can reconnect with the Simon Family, and your brother and sister. All four of us rule, and no one, not even the Vindice, can stop us."

Yeah, yeah, Henry has this grand plan and these ultimate goals he's been striving towards for years. "What does this have to do with your refusal to tell your people to stand down?" Vito asked hotly. He could hear and see in the corner of his eye Bel having his bloodlust-fueled psycho rampage matched against a bandaged Hibari and his biting boner. Yeah, guess who Vito thought would win that encounter, but it was an entirely avoidable fight if Henry just called for a ceasefire. It was his people who started this entire brawl in the first place.

"First, I need you to tell me that we have a deal," Henry answered sternly. "That you agree with me, and that you'll go along with my plan."

"Come on, Henry," Joe said, losing his smile, feeling some of the tension oozing out of Henry and Vito. "Between Vito's crew, the Varia, the Cervello gals who I'm assuming work for you, and my guys back in Italy, we can probably take over the Vongola easy. Dino's people could help, too. No need to hold Vito's Guardians hostage or anything. Sure, it's gonna take some convincing for Lal and Iemitsu –"

"We don't have to convince them," Henry interrupted. "They'll be some of the first to die."

Joe was stunned to silence, his mouth hanging open. Brasi whined an uncomfortable whimper.

There it is. There it was. What the itch in the back of Vito's mind was looking for. "You're still out for some payback," Vito observed. "You want some insurance – my word – that I won't stand in your way."

"I need to hear you say it, Vito," Henry said, not denying it. "You're a man of honor. You, too, Joe. I know you guys care about some of the higher-ups like Lal and Reborn, but you know what they did to me. What they let happen, whether they knew it or not. How they were just fine following Nono's lead and letting me be nothing more but the loyal little soldier. I need to hear you guys say that you'll let me do what I gotta do to them before we go any further."

Vito still remembered what Reborn had said when he was describing his first student: "He only cared about himself. He would have drowned the world in flames if it meant getting what he wanted."

It looked like Joe was starting to get the same idea. "Henry–I–but," Joe stumbled out, trying to find the right words to say. "They're good people. Forcing a miscarriage – a thousand times effed-up, yeah. I ain't arguing against that. Shamal and Nono should rot for it, but Iemitsu's a good guy. Lal – she's like a mother to me, man. We can just sit them down, tell 'em what Nono did, and figure things out from there." Joe glanced at the battle around them. Hana screeched in panic as a Varia lackey with a sword slashed repeatedly at her, 'til Dino stepped between them. "We oughtta work together. These are all our people. They shouldn't be fighting like this."

"I agree," Henry said as he extended his hand. "I don't want us to be fighting, so let's shake on it."

"But, we're not gonna go after –"

"Just say yes," Henry insisted, his unwavering gaze glancing between Vito and Joe. "I don't mean to be so dramatic, but if you're not with me, you're against me. Simple as that, so don't be a couple of idiots like Iemitsu was. The old regime's gonna die. I'm gonna be in charge now."

"You mean we're gonna be in charge now," Joe corrected, speaking slowly.

"Yeah. We'll be in charge." Henry gestured with his still outstretched arm. "If you say yes."

And if they didn't, that would make Vito and Joe liabilities. Vito's still got the Vongola blood and the claim to the rings. Joe stood with Vito, and he liked Lal and Iemitsu plenty. Them, Vito's Guardians, and their other allies would be useful in overthrowing all of Nono's supporters, but they'd also be stubborn opponents to go up against if they didn't side with Henry. This entire Ring Conflict was proof of what Vito's crew can do when pushed to a corner.

Giving Henry the benefit of the doubt, Vito prompted, one more time, "Tell your people to stand down, to leave my Guardians, my associates, and my family alone, and then we'll talk."

It looked like Levi was back on his feet. On a distant rooftop, older Lambo disappeared and was replaced by his present self. He would've been shocked into oblivion by another one of Levi's lightning attacks if Mochida didn't jump in and take the bolts for him. Obviously hurting, Mochida powered on through and dashed into the school building with an oblivious Lambo in tow. Levi followed after them, but he was cut off by Kusakabe coming out of nowhere and upper-cutting him off the building.

Mukuro himself didn't make any appearances. All of Vito's Guardians were well into the fighting except for him and Lambo. In Mukuro's place, Chrome stood in front of an entire crowd of Varia and Cervello hitmen. A wide-ranged illusion must be what was causing them all to fight each other in a rioting frenzy. Behind Chrome, a limping Lussuria attempted to attack her. Mukuro's two stooges butted in to keep him off Chrome.

Essentially everyone in Vito's crew was all still in the thick of it. It almost looked like the Varia-Cervello army was limitless. Their numbers just never seemed to let up. Henry really must've prepared his contingency planned on the chance of Vito and Joe rejecting his offer.

Henry had called Iemitsu a brother. Vito had no real idea how Henry came to see Iemitsu as that, but whatever they may have gone through together, it wasn't enough to stop Henry from shooting him in the head with hardly any hesitation. And on his wedding day, too.

"Agree that Timoteo, Shamal, Lal, Iemitsu, and the rest of the names on my list die," came Henry's cold response. "No exceptions. Then your Guardians can take a breather."

Whether Timoteo lived or died, Vito was fine either way. Same went to Shamal, even if it might bother Hayato. Lal was entirely off limits, though. She had Vito's respect, and like hell Vito would okay her death after how she pretty much raised Joe all this time.

Vito has his problems with Iemitsu, but when you get down to it, Iemitsu still cared about his family and wanted to see his son succeed in life. Cutting off any communication with the Kozatos was a maddening move that Vito still hasn't forgiven him for, yet it was still an understandable move on Iemitsu's part. No matter what kind of shit Vito may give him, a voice in the back of Vito's head keeps telling him that Iemitsu still loves his precious Tsunayoshi.

A voice...

"Henry..." Joe pleadingly trailed off. A single small tear was flowing down his face. His adolescence was showing, not in complete control of his emotions. "We can start over together, but ya don't have to be such a dick about it. Come on."

Henry didn't even give Joe a second glance. All his attention was on Vito. "Reborn's on my list, too," Henry added. "The second he gets back here, nothing and no one is gonna stop me from killing him, Arcobaleno and Tri-Ni-Set be damned. I'm sorry, Vito, but you know why I have to kill him."

Brasi instantly hopped onto Vito's arm and morphed into his 1911 Special. Vito fired away.

The speeding balls of fire Vito sent were intercepted by a blast from one of Xanxus' X-Guns. Xanxus was smirking, done sticking to the sidelines as he stepped up beside Henry. "Now, you've fucked up, you shitty boss," Xanxus haughtily said to his older brother. Vito couldn't even tell if Xanxus was jokingly teasing or legitimately insulting him.

"I'm disappointed in you, Vito," Henry said solemnly, and he actually sounded sorry. He turned his hand toward Joe. "What about –"

Joe pulled out his tommy gun. "I don't wanna fight you, Henry," Joe shouted loudly and resolutely, "but I ain't gonna stand by and let you kill Lal or Iemitsu, or even Reborn. They're my family. Vito's family. Our family!"

Henry retracted his hand. Shoving both hands into his pants pockets, he backed away and let Xanxus step in front of him. "I thought you two would be different from the others," Henry said, shaking his head. "Should'a been different. Guess brotherhood's a dying trade these days." With a pat to Xanxus' back, Henry pushed him forward. "Except for you. Go get 'em, kid."

Smiling like a psycho who just got let out of the loony bin, Xanxus shot his guns at the floor to kick off and be propelled toward Vito and Joe.

Vito has kicked Xanxus' ass already. It was a fucking hard-won victory, sure, but did Xanxus think he could take the both of them at the same time?

No, this wasn't really gonna be a two-on-one fight. Vito caught on to that fact the very instant Henry suddenly appeared right in his fucking face and pressed his hand over it.

Presumably, another seal was going to be placed on Vito, but Brasi demorphed from the gun and spread his amber flames all over his body. The Dying Will Flame sprouted on Vito's forehead. His vision gaining the brief orange tint again, Vito kicked his leg out and knocked Henry back a few steps.

To Vito's side, he saw Joe spray and pray with his tommy. Xanxus swerved and weaved around the air to dodge the bullets, but he still got nicked a few times. Joe ducked under Xanxus as he flew past him. Brasi morphed back into a shield to keep the excess Wrath Flames being released from hurting Vito. For his own protection, Joe let his trench coat take most of the heat. Whatever his coat was made out of must have been specially ordered by CEDEF. While his coat was charred and next to useless now, Joe's undershirt and skin didn't seem to get any damage as he removed his jacket, revealing a belt and straps fitted with ammo pouches.

Back to back, Vito and Joe readied their weapons; Brasi morphed back into a handgun for Vito's hands to clutch around while Joe reloaded his tommy. Xanxus landed directly across from Joe, and Henry was standing opposite Vito as he patted dust off his vest.

Henry pulled out a lighter and a cigar. He entered his own Hyper Dying Will Mode as an amber fire spawned over his temple. Vito squinted his eyes at the lighter when Henry switched it to release a wavering indigo flame.

"It didn't have to be this way," Henry said sorrowfully as he lit his cigar and puffed out smoke. "You made the wrong choice. Just remember that."

Yeah. Like hell Vito was making the wrong choice. Vito fired another bullet composed of pure Flame.

But the bullet went right through Henry without leaving any marks. Henry's figure shook and moved as like a ripple in water before fading away completely.

That indigo fire was the Mist Flame. Henry was also an illusionist?

Guess he was. The ruined battlefield of Namimori Middle shifted to Empire Bay's old Lincoln Park; the same place where Henry died. Instead of a cloudy night sky hanging over Vito, it was a bright and sunny day. The park was crowded with folks going about their business, some playing chess or walking their dogs or visiting a hotdog stand. Joe, Xanxus, and everyone else was gone.

With caution, Vito took a few steps forward.

Without warning, deafening gunfire sounded off. A hail of bullets came at Vito from every direction. Vito hopped over a bench and took cover between it and a short brick wall. Vito's dive for cover wasn't a clean ride as his foot landed wrong and his shoulder skidded on the floor a little too much, leaving some lingering pains. A lamp post was standing directly above him as it was shot up, glass falling with some grazing the side of Vito's face.

Shit, were these even real bullets? Could be completely fake. Could be completely real with Henry ordering his people to fire at will. Could be a mix of illusions and reality with Vito not knowing which barrage of bullets was real and which wasn't.

He should know, though. Vito’s broken out of illusions before with his willpower and Hyper Intuition. With his trusty bulldog-gun in his hand, Vito said to him, "Help me out, Brasi. Sniff him out. Where's the real Henry?"

Brasi stayed in his gun form. He didn't growl or make any sound. Instead, Vito was wrapped again in more of Brasi's amber flames sprouting off from the Brasi gun.

In all of Vito's jacket and pants pockets, he felt magazines for his 1911 Special be placed in them. Vito suddenly felt a whole lot heavier because of that, but the amber fire persisted for another second before dispersing. In that extra second, Vito's feet and weight began to feel a whole lot more balanced.

Feeling around his person till something clicked in Vito's mind, he gripped one magazine and reloaded his gun. While gunfire was still going off and still directed at him, Vito kicked the bench to take on one of the volleys. With one hand, Vito used an X-Glove to fire a flame to propel himself upward. He flew fast enough so that only a few bullets managed to make some flesh wounds before Vito was soaring high in the air. Once he was at a comfortable height, Vito aimed his 1911 down and pulled the trigger.

Vito's always been pretty in-sync with Brasi. The removal of Nono's seal was certainly helping with that. Still, when Vito fired his gun with the new magazine, he did not necessarily expect the kickback or the red burn of the Storm Flame to descend and spread across the park in a fiery explosive wave.

The illusion faltered. The sounds and smells of distant traffic and a bustling metropolis disappeared, in turn revealing the ruined middle school battlegrounds. Below Vito, plenty of Cervello and Varia soldiers – including the illusionists – got caught in the explosion of Storm Flames Vito had unleashed. They cried and wailed in pain. Thrusting his palm to his side, Vito fired his normal Sky Flame to reconvene on the side of a school building, the same side where Vito had landed during his bout with Xanxus earlier. In his elevated position, Vito scanned the area.

Vito's crew was still hard at work, still fighting. He could see Joe taking a human shield as Xanxus tried rounding around Joe to shoot him in the back. Vito was tempted to go help Joe, but then he spotted Henry wading through the slowly fading layer of Storm Flames like it was nothing.

Narrowing his eyes, Vito saw Henry light his cigar again. This time, it was a purple fire that his lighter generated.

Henry drew out his own handgun like a sharpshooting cowboy and fired from the hip. With Vito's enhanced speed and reflexes in Hyper Dying Will Mode, he shifted his head just enough so that the bullet only cut off some of his hair strands before hitting the wall behind him.

However, following that one bullet was a seemingly endless stream of more. They all followed the same vector, hitting the wall Vito was a hanging off of. Before long, Vito was forced to hop to another side of the building, lest the next few bullets Henry fired and their infinite purple trail of follow-up bullets hit Vito. It was the Cloud Flame's propagation ability, Vito guessed, making more bullets with each discharge.

The rapid, never-ending steam of projectiles eventually did so much damage across the side of the school building that a wide part of the wall crumbled and fell off from the rest of the structure. Vito just so happened to have just leaped onto that side of the wall as it fell. Vito wasn't expecting to become unbalanced and enter freefall so abruptly.

Following his instincts, Vito's hands went to reload his gun again. Aiming down the sight toward Henry, Vito fired whenever Henry fired. With each long line of bullets Henry sent, Vito's short stream of green lightning either deflected the bullets or cut them in half, sending the pieces off in different directions.

When Vito landed on the ground, now level with Henry, the cigar and lighter were back out again. This time, the fire burning at the end of Henry's cigar was a blue color, and Vito was hit by an epiphany.

Henry and Brasi had the same type of amber flames. Henry's gotta have a Sky Flame, Vito knows he has a Sun Flame like Reborn, and he's been using Mist, Cloud, and now Rain Flames in this fight. Brasi's Sky Flames had meshed well with Vito's own. However, Brasi and the gun and ammo mags he's created have also let Vito use the Storm and Lightning Flames; plus, there was also that other orange-reddish flame from before that had healed him and Joe.

Whatever special flame Henry had that had made Timoteo so driven to make him Decimo, it was one that let him use any of the Dying Will Flames of the Sky. Could it go even further? Maybe use Earth Flames and its derivatives?

Just what the fuck was Henry? Being born with a flame like that... And what the fuck was Leon for that matter? Being able to give birth to Brasi with the same power?

Henry exhaled a cool breath, visible with light blue Rain Flames. Raising his pistol, he blew some of his breath over his gun's muzzle.

However, before Henry could do whatever he was about to do, Xanxus barreled suddenly into his backside. The two of them hit the floor, giving Vito one big fat target to unload his gun on. Lightning bolts streaked at them, and opposite Vito on the other side of the Xanxus and Henry, Joe was firing away with his tommy.

All their bullets didn't do much, though. Henry raised his pistol and fired into the air. A blue inferno came out as a round sphere abruptly expanded to surround him and Xanxus. Joe's bullets slowed to complete stops when they hit the barrier. Vito's lightning struggled against the wall of Rain Flames but ultimately fizzled into nothing.

Xanxus stood up and aimed his two guns at both Vito and Joe, one for each of them. Vito's first instinct was to use Brasi as a shield again, but instead, his hands were drawn to fire his gun downward. Lighting Flames surrounded him and served as his own protective barrier against Xanxus' attack.

Brasi must not be able to shapeshift like normal when he's in this gun mode and spreading multi-flame magazines across Vito's body.

Speaking of those magazines, Vito reloaded again. He went with Cloud Flames this time. Henry's use of the Cloud Flame didn't look too hard to mimic, those flurries of single-file bullet barrages. If Vito gets a good crack in, it might just be enough to break apart Henry's lighter. Vito wasn't sure how much Henry relied on the lighter to use his Flames, but it was the best idea Vito can come up with.

Once Xanxus was done shooting, he took a knee and reloaded. Vito was already looking down his sight and lining up his shot. Unfortunately, Henry stood in the way with the hazy dribble of Mist Flames escaping his lips. He was going for another illusion. With Joe directly behind Henry, Vito didn't want to risk the shot.

Any parlor tricks or apparitions Henry was thinking of showcasing never got a chance to materialize when Joe tossed a Molotov. It burst apart with Rain Flames, their unique properties temporarily immobilizing Henry and Xanxus. Vito took the opportunity to test out his deadeye.

While Vito did manage to hit the lighter out of Henry's fingers, Vito had been under the impression that Xanxus was one of the few people in the world Henry still gave two shits about. Guess he was wrong on that front. Whilst Xanxus was more or less subdued by the tranquil, paralyzing nature of the Rain Flames, Henry fought against it and managed to drag Xanxus to his feet by the collar of his shirt. Henry propped his supposed brother up as a meat shield, letting the scarred psycho take the brunt of Vito's onslaught of bullets as Henry received only a few nicks.

If the utter shock on Xanxus' face was any indication, he wasn't expecting Henry to do that either. It wasn't like the rage at losing control of the situation that Xanxus has expressed before, though. It was just complete surprise, so much that Xanxus didn't at all know how to react.

On the other hand, Henry didn't lose a beat as he dropped Xanxus' body and snatched his X-Guns. Henry went airborne, blasting off into the sky with his own Wrath Flames. Guess the lighter wasn't the be-all, end-all of Henry's arsenal of Dying Will Flames.

With Henry on the retreat, Vito went to check on Xanxus' prone form. Joe had the same idea. While keeping their firearms trained on Henry, they walked to and stood over Xanxus. The bloody body actually brought some morbid nostalgia to Vito's senses. It's been a while since he's been up close to a guy he just riddled with bullets.

Joe kicked his foot across Xanxus' face for good measure. Xanxus was still breathing, however weak it was going, but he wasn't getting back up any time soon. You'd be surprised by the kind of shit people can go through and still be able to survive and tell about it.

A part of Vito was tempted to finish off Xanxus before he bled out.

"Just what in the heck is Henry doing?" Joe questioned with a sigh as he checked the ammo in his drum magazine. "Whose side is he on?"

"His own," Vito answered without pause.

High in the sky, Henry did a one-eighty to start flying downward. He pointed one X-Gun behind him to fire an enormous blast that accelerated his descent. His other gun was poised at Vito and Joe, releasing a narrower stream of Wrath Flames.

Vito quickly clicked the safety on his gun as he shoved it down between his pants and belt, raising his hands in the Zero Point Breakthrough gesture. Vito also gave Xanxus a kick to send the Varia head out of the way of – Wait a second. Why in the ever-loving fuck was Vito trying to save Xanxus' life?

In that short second of indecision of Vito, Joe tackled him so that the jet of Wrath Flames wouldn't hit them.

"Hey, don't lose your cool on me, Vito," Joe warned as Henry landed and abandoned the X-Guns in favor of his own handgun. "We almost got burnt to a crisp right now. Mission's not over yet."

Vito hadn't realized "mission" was a part of Joe's vocabulary. Learning under Lal must've really left its mark.

"Any ideas how to take Henry down?"

As Henry reloaded his gun, he backed up and jumped, avoiding the torrent of dynamite that was thrown his way. The force of the ensuing explosions pushed Henry further up into the air.

Hayato, wearing plenty of makeshift bandages and unbandaged wounds, appeared beside Joe and Vito. He was breathing heavily but proudly smirking. "The traitorous Varia and the deceitful Cervello have been eliminated, Don Vittorio," he reported. The abundance of bodies surrounding them was proof enough of that. Vito could tell a good chunk of them were only unconscious, so he could at least say that his crew weren't quite mass murderers yet. "Mukuro's female double has informed us of the situation. We shall support you as you see fit."

Did Mukuro eavesdrop on Vito's, Joe's, and Henry's conversation earlier? The creep could have probably stepped in and prevented Mammon from steering Reborn and Iemitsu away. He must've wanted to take a step back and consider who to place his bets on winning and taking over the Vongola.

Just as Henry was about to land on the floor again, Takeshi charged at him from behind. Takeshi swung his sword, hitting Henry's wrist. When Henry quickly recovered and pulled his arm down fast to try pistol-whipping Takeshi, Takeshi tried pulling a feint, letting the handle of his blade fall from one hand to his other one. The momentum of Takeshi next sword swing was poised perfectly to slice off Henry's hand. In actuality, Henry fired, the Lightning Flame-coated bullet ricocheting off an overhanging tree branch to pierce into Takeshi's elbow.

His attack went off-course. Takeshi shrieked erratically as his entire body was enveloped by dancing lightning bolts. Henry swept behind him and took Takeshi as another human shield.

Before Vito could try making a plan to save Takeshi, Ryohei was already moving and delivering a punch across Henry's face. At the same time, Hibari was punching with his tonfa, disarming Henry as his gun broke into pieces.

Henry went on the retreat again, releasing Takeshi and backing up. Henry commandeered Takeshi's sword, using it to deflect a thrust from Chrome's trident that suddenly came at him. The sword glowed in Lighting Flames, sharpening the sword enough to break off one of the blades of the trident. Henry slid the sword down the trident's shaft. He might've sliced Chrome's thin body into two if the sword didn't instead go through her without doing any damage. Chrome's entire form was an illusion.

Henry wasn't expecting that. Vito could see him stopping short, hesitating as he realized what just happened. He was reacting, not thinking. Hyper Intuition helped out in situations like that, but going with your gut can only last so long before you get overwhelmed and make the wrong split-second decision that could cost you your life.

As Dino stepped in to drag the twitching Takeshi out of the line of fire, an idea struck Vito. "Joe," Vito said as he changed out his mag again. "You know how to manipulate gravity with your Earth Flame. Right?"

"A little. Yeah," Joe confirmed, eyeing the concrete floor they were standing over. "Whaddaya got in mind?"

"You hit him low, we hit him high." Vito holstered his gun and motioned to Hayato. "Get on my back."

Hayato seemed a little too eager when he giddily hopped onto Vito, but there wasn't any time to dwell on it. Henry stabbed Takeshi's sword straight through Hibari's left upper arm and left forearm. Hibari was bending his left arm to block and parry that strike. He had moved just a little bit too slow.

On the plus side, when Hibari was pulled back into Kusakabe's protective arms, Henry was left weaponless. He only had his bare fists to defend against Chrome and Ryohei. On the downside, however, Henry's hands were consumed by pure, amber Dying Will Flames perfectly resembling the one on his forehead.

Vito took to the air, flying at a curved angle until he and Hayato were directly over Henry. Henry immediately spotted them. After weaving around another trident thrust from Chrome, Henry shoved a charging Ryohei to the side and leaped upward with his flaming fists burning brightly.

Joe punched a brass-knuckled fist into the floor. A narrow shockwave swiftly reverberated across the floor, each burst of energy accompanied by a flash of reddish-brown Earth Flames. The shockwave ended at the spot where Henry had jumped up from. The Earth Flame spiked wildly. Henry stopped moving up and was abruptly pulled downward toward the flame.

Simultaneously, everyone who was still able played their last cards. Hayato dropped an avalanche of dynamite onto Henry. From a good distance away, Ryohei shot his Maximum Cannon punch to fire a barrage of condensed salt crystals. With one arm still disabled and being tended to by Kusakabe, Hibari used his good arm to throw one of his tonfas at Henry. Chrome summoned a mob of illusionary snakes that had the fangs and the bite of the real thing, and Vito fired a blast of burning Sky Flames from his 1911 Special.

Henry's screams drowned out the noise of the explosion. It wasn't a sound Vito got any satisfaction in. Hearing people who have crossed him scream in agony usually brought Vito more contentment. Guys like Derek, Eric, Grecco – with Henry, though, Vito just knew his nightmares weren't gonna stop for a long time after tonight.

Once the Brasi gun rang empty and the blaze went out, Vito landed with a thud. Hayato hopped off him and stood to the side, letting Vito stroll freely to Henry's broken body. Most of Henry's hair was burnt off, along with his clothes. What was left were unflattering, horrible red contortions, sunken bite marks, and the remnants of Henry's black suit meshing with his skin. There were even chunks of bone visible. Henry was struggling to breathe, weakly gulping and opening his desperately mouth for air.

Vito really shouldn't be surprised when Hibari lunged in for the kill. Kusakabe tried to stop him, only to be held back by what looked like a broken leg Vito hadn't noticed before. At any rate, Hayato and Ryohei held Hibari back. The blood loss finally got to Hibari, and exhaustion and their other injuries also got to the other two. All three collapsed in a messy pile. Chrome was supporting herself on her trident, looking more out of stamina and energy as Mukuro's fanboys probably took the brunt of the physical damage while protecting Chrome. Nearby, Dino was towering over Takeshi and checking his pulse. Presumably, Mochida was keeping Lambo and Hana safe out of the battlefield.

Joe approached and stood next to Vito. While Vito forced a straight face on, Joe outright gasped and would have probably cried out a swear if Lal's hardline training didn't kick in. "Freakin' A, Henry," Joe muttered. "What were ya thinking?"

Henry let out a harsh shriek. Everyone around him flinched. It was an almost inhuman scream, unrestrained and abundant with fury.

"84 years," Henry groaned. "84 years of dealing with everyone else's shit. Two times before, I got my ass beat down so badly that I could barely fucking move, and now I'm here again. What fucking bullshit."

"You know what's bull, Henry?" Joe asked as he kneeled before him. "All three of us cheated death plenty of times, and we've just been trying to kill each other. How messed up is that?"

"Are you fucking surprised?" Henry barked with a wheeze. "Are either of you two surprised? We're in the goddamn mob. Dying Will Flames or not, this is what happens. Guys like us will say or do anything to get what we want. That's never gonna change."

A part of Vito couldn't disagree with Henry. Another part wanted to vehemently argue otherwise.

All of a sudden, Vito felt the hairs on his shoulders stand up. His Hyper Intuition was acting up. There was another attack coming at them. There was –

Henry's amber Dying Will Flame sprouted again on his forehead. Joe was caught off-guard, instinctively raising his arm to shield his eyes from the light. Vito instantly fired his gun at Henry's throat, but the Sky Flames seemed to hit an invisible barrier and refused to go any further or closer to Henry.

The same flames that Brasi had used to heal Vito and Joe now appeared over Henry's hands. Every person around Henry who wasn't already lying on the floor were jerked by an unseen force and pulled down, their chins making impacts against the ground. While everyone else went down, Henry was slowly rising up. As Vito gritted his teeth and fought against the gravity manipulation, he could see some of Henry's wounds begin healing, burnt muscles reconnecting and covering up his exposed bones.

Vito tried willing a message or mentally communicating to Brasi to stop with the guns and ammo and be able to shapeshift normally again. With the altered gravity keeping him immobilized, Vito could neither line up a good shot or even try making a trick shot. Neither could Joe. Or anyone for that matter. Even Chrome was down and unable to move, and Vito doubted Mukuro would normally let his precious proxy be put in such a vulnerable position to get cut down by Henry.

With heavy, rigid footsteps, Henry inched closer to Vito.

He only managed to sludge through a couple of feet when Vito was struck by strange sense of déjà vu by what happened next.

Henry's sternum exploded with blood and slim bits of internal organs as a fist thrust itself straight through his upper torso.

Iemitsu, wearing his own scrapes and bruises, pushed his arm further through Henry's chest and used his other arm to hold Henry in place. Reborn was standing on Iemitsu's shoulder. Choking on and gurgling out blood, Henry tried turning his head around to look at them. In response, Reborn simply fired his Leon gun and blew Henry's brains out.

Again, Henry hit the floor. This time, there was no denying that he was dead, with half of his head missing.

The Triads cutting Henry up with butcher knives doesn't seem like such a bad way to die now. Back then, at least Vito had still recognized Henry's face.

Tsunayoshi Sawada should have been scared out of his wits at seeing such a macabre image.

At this point, Vito was simply too numb to give a crap.

Iemitsu immediately went to Vito and started asking questions, eyeing him for any extreme injuries. Vito didn't hear a single thing that came out of his mouth. He was too busy staring at Henry. In the corner of his eye, Vito did see some vaguely familiar CEDEF agents, Dino's boys, and a few of Ichiro's button men pitching in to help out Vito's Guardians and restrain the surviving Cervello and Varia members.

Almost inaudible, Joe let out a tired sigh. "I still miss the old days," Joe confessed quietly to Vito, the two of them not caring that Iemitsu was right in front of them. "Having Henry with us would'a been the icing on the giant effing cake that we've gotten for ourselves here. It should've worked out like that. It's a fucking shame it didn't."

Yeah. Vito agreed. Damn shame.

X

Iemitsu used to be able to be able to name at least three moments in which his life had changed forever.

He can now add a fourth to the list: learning that his son had the reincarnated soul of a classic Italian American mobster in him. Reborn's tutelage was meant to mold Tsuna into a mafia boss, and all this time, Tsuna has already lived and prospered as one in another life.

Iemitsu was a fool. He hadn't been able to see what Federico truly was whenever he had let his guard down around him, and he never caught on to why Tsuna was so independent and frustrating to work with. They were too ambitious, selfish, and independent for their own good, Iemitsu had told himself, yet there was so much more to it than simply just that.

When Nana had acquiesced to let Iemitsu and Tsuna talk in his bedroom alone, Iemitsu was half-tempted to bring Nana in with them. She was Tsuna's mother. She deserved to know in totality what her son was, but Iemitsu abided by Tsuna's request to keep her in the dark for now. With the slaughter of the Cervello family, Xanxus' betrayal, and the unstable state of Timoteo, the Vongola and the mafia world was nearing another all-out war. Either more upstarts like Xanxus or the greedy old guard of rival families may make mad grabs for power. Better to ameliorate that entire situation before they seriously bring Iemitsu's precious wife into this mess.

Still, Iemitsu had to know Tsuna's story and had to hear it directly from his mouth. While Tsuna had Reborn's endorsement, Iemitsu had an obligation to personally ensure that whoever "Vittorio Scaletta" was in the past wouldn't steer Tsuna down in the wrong direction.

When Tsuna finally finished his story, Iemitsu draped a hand over his forehead in exhaustion. "You should have told me this before," Iemitsu muttered.

"Why?"

"Because you're still my son, Tsuna." Iemitsu wasn't going to use his "Vito" moniker. "I've worked in this business for a long time. We don't come across reincarnated spirits often, but I have had my share of trappings under illusions. Horrid hallucinations that have long-term effects. Actual, real experiences that still haunt me today. If you had confided with me and your mother, we could have helped you move on pass what you used to be, overcome your nightmares. You didn't have to cope by running away from home, starting your own gang, or doing anything like that."

Tsuna's facial expression was decidedly neutral. There was no resentment or dismissive attitude about him like in their usual interactions. "Maybe you could've helped me see things differently," Tsuna agreed, "but it's too late. I am what I am, and that's never gonna change."

"I didn't say you have to change," Iemitsu quickly replied, "necessarily. It's – It feels odd to know that your life experience exceeds my own, I'll admit, but I've seen more absurdities than you might think while working in the mafia." The mob life had a lot more to do with magical fire and eccentric individuals like Reborn, Shamal, and the Poison Scorpion than Iemitsu had initially thought. "I'm still your father. Your blood is my blood. I've only ever wanted a good life for you. It has never once been a perfect upbringing for you, I know, but despite your feelings toward me, I would never abandon you."

Some people say there is no honor among thieves. By Iemitsu's standards, there has to always be honor among family. Families inevitably conflict, argue, and fight with one another, but a true family would never betray and abandon each other. Not like how Timoteo orchestrated the death of Federico's and Aria's baby. Not like how Federico attempted to murder Iemitsu, Tsuna, and Joe in cold blood.

Tsuna had his Guardians, his friends, and his loyal lieutenants. He had no shortage of family, and they were just as honor-bound to follow him as he is to remain loyal toward them. Yes, Tsuna was the Don the Vongola needed amidst this crisis and for the future.

If only Iemitsu had realized it all so much sooner.

"So," Tsuna drawled out, standing tall with his hands on his hips in a no-nonsense fashion, "what happens now?"

There was much to be done. Too much, Iemitsu would argue. "My flight to Italy leaves within the hour. My CEDEF associates, Basil, and I are escorting Nono home. Lal is doing what she can to keep the peace, but Nono's Guardians are obviously anxious to see their boss. Dino Cavallone is holding Xanxus and the Varia under lock and key, and I have the Poison Scorpion working with some of my people to track down Shamal."

Iemitsu shouldn't have been surprised that Shamal ran off when Federico revealed himself. Shamal had left Nono in the care of Iemitsu’s people before leaving and going into hiding. And Iemitsu had trusted the man enough to be in the same space as his wife without any flirtations or groping. Would Shamal have made Tsuna a stillborn if Nono ordered it, despite Iemitsu's years of loyalty? Iemitsu quickly banished the prospect from his thoughts. He needn't speculate about that until later, when things have calmed down, and once Shamal was apprehended and Nono was able to speak coherently.

"As far as everyone is concerned," Iemitsu went on, "you're the Vongola Decimo. However, Timoteo is still technically the boss, so until he recovers, you will continue with your studies under Reborn here."

Tsuna slowly nodded in acknowledgement. "And after that?"

Who knows what Timoteo will say when he wakes up. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Inexplicably feeling awkward and out of place, Iemitsu checked his watch. He really should be going now. "I'm still going to keep my word, Tsuna. You're going to be the next boss. Nothing can change that. I'll be home more. Once our businesses in Italy has been settled, I'll make sure we get settled in our new house, Reborn and I will jointly tutor you, and we can –"

"Enma and Mami," Tsuna cut in. His Hyper Dying Will Mode was inactive, but Tsuna gave off the same intensity as if it wasn't. "Stop keeping them away. They're still my family. Let me find them and talk to them again."

Timoteo had kept Aria and Federico separated, and had kept Xanxus from the only brother he ever truly cared for. Iemitsu shouldn't uphold the tradition. "I'll get to work on formally inviting the Kozatos to a family dinner in our new house," Iemitsu said. "I promise."

That answer seemed to satisfy Tsuna. He walked to the door. "I wanna tell Joe goodbye."

And Basil was also a reincarnated soul. Did Lal know as well?

There will be plenty of times for questions on the plane. It was lucky, at least, that the past lives of Tsuna and Basil happened to be the best of friends.

By the Sawada house's front door, Nana was giving a blushing Basil a hug. "Stay safe," Nana told him, pulling back as she straightened Basil's tie. "Make sure to keep my husband out of trouble."

"'Course, ma'am," Basil said as he ducked his head with a light smile. Lal was never one for such physical acts expressing love and attachment, whilst Nana would never hesitate when she wanted to honestly express herself. "You keep Vito – I mean, Tsuna from picking fights with any more psychopaths."

"It's a deal," Nana joked. As Tsuna and Iemitsu approached, Nana watched them with sad eyes. When Iemitsu stepped near her, he reminded himself that he shouldn't be too disappointed that he didn't get a hug. Tsuna and Basil shared a hug, however, clasping their fights together and patting each other's backs.

"Don't get yourself killed out there," Tsuna warned.

Basil snorted. "We'll be back in no time. When we do, I'll be bringing along some of my buddies in CEDEF. You ain't the only one who's been gaining guardians and stuff."

Then, Iemitsu was very surprised when Tsuna graced him with his own hug. It was a very brief embrace, however. Tsuna appeared to realize that his arms were wrapped around Iemitsu and uncomfortably backed off.

A part of Tsuna still legitimately cared for his father, Iemitsu deduced. That, and the follow-up hug and the kiss on the cheek Nana gave Iemitsu, would have to do for now.

After saying their farewells, Iemitsu and Basil adopted a brisk pace to the helicopter parked at the school. Basil was pointedly avoiding Iemitsu's eyes, and Iemitsu was perfectly fine with that.

They passed by Reborn on their way out of the house. He was leaning atop a short lamppost. Reborn gave Iemitsu a sidelong glance. With his typical self-confident tone, he reassured, "I'll look after him."

"I know you will," Iemitsu replied with a nod.

One day, Iemitsu would find a way to repay Reborn for everything he'd done for him. That was another promise.

X

Reborn could immediately tell that something was off about Tsuna.

It wasn't his recent recovery from his injuries, the reunion with Henry, nor Henry's second death (or was it third? Who were those guardian angels Henry had alluded to?) that was the cause of it. No, it was something related to the seal Nono had placed and was now removed. Theoretically, the seal's removal meant Tsuna's confidence and focus should be increased tenfold, more refined. As such, his output of Flames has strengthened, his synchrony with Brasi has been much improved, and his ease with which he entered Hyper Dying Will Mode without stimuli like bullets or pills should be more easily accessible.

Yet, as Reborn sat atop Tsuna's shoulder on their way to Kawahira's shop, the boy's gait was completely wrong. Each step he took was uneven; the attention he gave to his path, distracted. Normally, with the excitement and drama of the Ring Conflict over, Tsuna would have been refreshed and looking forward to the celebrations with his friends and family. However, as Tsuna was now, something was weighing heavily on his mind.

"You have a headache," Reborn bluntly pointed out. Tsuna groaned in response.

"No shit, Sherlock," he retorted.

The routine would have followed with Reborn drop kicking Tsuna for the insubordinate words, but Reborn's personal brand of intuition told him that such a move wouldn't restore Tsuna's facilities to a reasonable level. "You've been having nightmare again."

"Not nightmares, no." Tsuna absently gazed at the late-morning sun rising above a layer of clouds. "Weird dreams. Been having double vision since after the Ring Conflict ended."

Since being freed of Nono's seal, he means. Yet that side effect should have disappeared by now. Nono's manipulation of Dying Will Flames and seal-making must have become more imperfect with age than anticipated.

Kawahira's Antique Shop was outwardly closed, but the front door was unlocked. Tsuna marched inside, nodding in greeting to Kawahira. The older gentlemen was eating a bowl of ramen as he watched a program on an antiquated, compact television. He gave Tsuna thumbs-up. "Good job," Kawahira said distractedly, though Reborn could tell Kawahira was keener than he let on and was perfectly aware of Tsuna's troubled countenance. Kawahira made no inquires on the matter, however, like that aloof recluse that he often was.

In the luxurious bar at the back of the shop, much of Tsuna's family was already there. Takeshi sat on a barstool, the boy's father holding Takeshi's crutches and berating him for walking to the shop without them. Hayato and Ryohei were in a screaming match that Mochida was miserably attempting to end with his own shouts – shouts quite pathetic in comparison. Lambo and I-Pin's own screams and Brasi's barks during their game of tag had a better chance of becoming the most deafening sound in the room, if the two club captains assigned to watch over them failed to catch up to the children and make them settle down first.

Bianchi was in conversation with Haru at a booth. The two young women had struck up a friendship not long after their first meeting. The dynamic they had developed was something Reborn had found quite useful for many of Tsuna's tutoring sessions. On an adjacent booth, Hana was burying her head in her arms with her face flat against the table. She appeared quite weary, likely from all the excitement and life-threatening encounters she had experienced during the Sky Ring Battle. Nana sat beside her and whispered what were presumably calming words of encouragement to coax Hana to relax. Chrome also sat across them, observing quietly alongside a neutral Chikusa and a snoring Ken.

At another table, Kusakabe and Ichiro were playing a game of chess that Fuuta paid careful, undivided attention to. Fuuta would have most likely taken out his Ranking Book at some point if he hadn't spotted Reborn and Tsuna enter the room. When he did, Fuuta ran energetically to his older brother.

With a seamless ease uncharacteristic with Tsuna's previous absentmindedness, Tsuna gave Fuuta a hug. Fuuta had gotten clingier following the end of the Ring Conflict, wanting physical proof that Tsuna was recovering from his injuries at an optimal pace. Reborn foresaw Fuuta developing quite the potent Dying Will Flames one day as a loyal member of the Vongola Family.

Tsuna would need to become an astounding boss first, however. As Tsuna was now, he was a very unfocused and unpredictable boss. Fuuta began babbling about his more recent rankings. Tsuna would normally ignore Fuuta and only pretend to be listening to the childish gibberish. Now, Tsuna paid close attention to Fuuta's words. Then, when people began realizing Tsuna had arrived, his eyes grew foggy as he craned his neck, fighting off the effects of another headache.

"Are you alright, Tsuna-nii?" Fuuta asked worriedly. Nana was by the sides of her two sons instantly.

"We can always have our little celebration later," Nana said as she rubbed her hand against Tsuna's back. "Your health takes precedent."

"No. No," Tsuna said aloud, straightening his back. "I wanna see– I got something to say to everyone. This can't wait any longer."

Though hesitant, Nana stepped back so that the crowd would have an uninhibited view of Tsuna. Tsuna's gaze slowly scanned the room, his eyes meeting each person's at least once. When Tsuna seemed to be comfortable to have everyone's attention, Tsuna said his piece.

"Thank you," Tsuna said.

Then Tsuna sat at the bar, poured himself a glass of water, and stared at it, his back and side turned to face everyone.

Now, Reborn was beyond confused. If Tsuna wanted to express his thanks for his family and friend's ferocious loyalty and service, he would have had more tact and charisma than a banal "Thank you" line. He even made the effort to quite all side conversations and become the center of attention. What was wrong with Tsuna?

"Boss," the young Chrome spoke up. "Are you feeling alright?"

Hayato pointed an accusing finger at her. "You! Has Mukuro Rokudo attempted to possess Don Vittorio a second time? Is that the cause for his unusual behavior? Have you–"

"Relax, Hayato," Takeshi cut in. "Tsuna's probably just still tired. Did you get enough sleep, Tsuna? Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today?"

"Bullshit he's just tired," Hana sharply declared. Reborn was only slightly surprised by the girl's crass language. "What the fuck was that, Tsuna? 'Thank you.' Thank you for what, exactly? Specify."

"Hana!" Haru gasped indignantly. "You shouldn't use language like that. You shouldn't use language like that to Tsuna either!"

Incessant arguments were about to break out when Tsuna spoke another few scant words. "For being there for Vito," he said quietly, "and helping him."

Tsuna wasn't speaking about himself when he said "Vito." Reborn could tell that Tsuna was referring to Vito as an entirely different person. Never mind Reborn's attempts to drill the idea into Tsuna's head that his true name is and shall be to his death Tsunayoshi Sawada. Tsuna's words just now were signs of something other than mere defiance.

Perhaps it was something that Henry had briefly suffered in the past: a legitimate identity crisis, wherein he was unable to discern and separate memories of his past life from his current life. It was a very short period of Henry's life, but it was an immensely stressful one for Reborn.

"Tsuna," Nana spoke softly in a motherly tone. She clutched Tsuna's shoulder. "Talk to us."

"Yeah," Tsuna said absently. "I finally can."

Kawahira entered the bar. He slurped on some noodles and muffled something indiscernible. Reading the tension in the room, he swallowed and deadpanned, "Am I interrupting?"

Reborn didn't spare Kawahira a second glance. He was too busy trying to gauge and analyze any telling signs that could be distinguished from Tsuna's misty eyes. "Leave," Reborn commanded. Kawahira, unfortunately, was the independent sort who was unbothered and not intimidated by Reborn's tone.

Suddenly, Tsuna raised himself from his seat. Tsuna rotated his shoulder such that Reborn had to hop off him or would otherwise have fallen to the floor. Reborn landed on the bar top. Tsuna shoved Kawahira to the side as something pink and blurry shot out from the doorway behind Kawahira. A time-traveling rocket and/or age-altering missile signature of the Bovino Family, Reborn presumed. Iemitsu had said he had negotiated for the Bovino Family to send some of their members as precautionary bodyguards for Lambo and –

The rocket hit Tsuna dead-on. Once the smoke passed, an unaged Tsuna was still standing, as still as a statue. Another defective munition?

"Tsuna?" Nana prompted, receiving no response.

Fuuta tilted his head in curiosity and stepped forward. He poked Tsuna's back. "Tsuna-nii, what are you –"

"HIEEEEEE!"

… What was this strange sound that was coming out Tsuna's mouth?

Tsuna jumped in fright, tripped over his own two feet, and somehow managed to slide along the smooth wooden floor from one end of the room to the other without hitting anyone in his way.

Not even Tsuna was this unlucky during the worst of times.

Sitting against a wall, Tsuna moaned as he rubbed the back of his head to alleviate the pain.

"Don Vittorio!" screeched Hayato as he dashed to his boss. "Have any of your wounds reopened? Brasi! Come tend to your master!"

Haru picked up Brasi and held him up to Tsuna's face. "Here, Brasi! Transform to the healing-fire thing again and make Tsuna feel all better!"

Brasi did nothing other than slobber Tsuna's face with a messy lick. Tsuna cringed but chuckled. As Brasi shimmied out of Haru's grip, he cuddled up against Tsuna's abdomen. Tsuna started stroking the dog's back as Brasi wagged his tail.

"The fur's softer than I thought it'd be," Tsuna muttered, talking to himself. "Why doesn't Vito pet you more? He should. We'd have been goners without you."

Takeshi briefly frowned, cleared his throat, and forced a smile. "Are we supposed to be calling you Tsuna now, Tsuna, or do you want us to call you Vito? What's gonna work better?"

The inquiry broke Tsuna out of whatever trance he was in. He stopped moving again, adopting a completely frozen stance. He systematically stared at everyone's faces for a second time before staring at his hands.

"Sawada," Ryohei began lowly, "you are acting extremely peculiar."

"Yeah, ditto," Mochida supported. "What's up with you?"

Tsuyoshi Yamamoto looked down at Tsuna with concern. "Tsunayoshi Sawada," he said, "you are unwell. Please, tell us what –"

"I'm Tsuna," Reborn's student suddenly said, as if to reaffirm the fact to himself. "I'm Tsuna. My name is Tsunayoshi Sawada. That's who I am."

Now, Reborn was truly starting to worry. "You are completely correct," Reborn agreed. "So explain to us plainly what is ailing you, Tsuna."

"I, uh –"

"The Tsuna I know would not stutter out an answer. Explain clearly, or –"

"Vito wouldn't stutter," Tsuna said. He stared at his hands again, flexing his fingers and glancing at his complete Vongola Ring. "Vito wouldn't... No, Vito would have dove in the way there like just now. I saw that it was pink, so I thought it was harmless. He saw the rocket and just reacted. I didn't understand. I just froze. I should've, maybe..."

This was bad. Tsuna truly had no idea who he was. Reborn may have to call back Iemitsu or contact any of his mental health contacts to –

"But now Vito's gone," Tsuna looked up to stare back at Reborn. "He's gone."

Still wearing the forced smile, Takeshi questioned, "So you want to be called Tsuna instead of Vito?"

"I'm not Vito," Tsuna tried clarifying. "Vito – That rocket wasn't from a Ten Year Bazooka. It was something else. I can still remember things. I still have Vito's memories, but him, his soul, its Dying Will – it's all gone."

Most of the people in the room were now beyond confused, but finally, Reborn was finally starting to get a better idea of what has truly transpired.

"You are Tsuna," Reborn observed. "The real Tsunayoshi. Your soul and your Dying Will were locked away behind Nono's seal while Vito had full reign over your body."

"Reborn," Nana spoke loudly, "what are you talking about? Tsuna, stop talking about yourself in the third person with your alias. I don't like it when you use that name anyhow."

"But it's not my name," Tsuna emphasized. "It's Vito's name. It's – It's hard, trying to find the right words. I never really had the chance to talk to anyone before. It was always easier to just go with the flow, just to nudge Vito in the right direction, whenever the seal was broken for a bit. But now I'm on the other side, and I can't just think things out and see them happen, or see Vito make it happen. I have to, to actually do things in real time, all the time now, I guess. Breathing, not knowing what you know, what someone else has seen–"

"You're rambling," Reborn said. "Recompose yourself." Though Reborn understood well enough what Tsuna was trying to get across.

It appeared that Nana and the others will have to be informed of Tsuna's reincarnation status sooner than expected.

"My name is Tsuna," Tsuna repeated, looking like a lost little boy, not at all like the assertive student Reborn has been teaching during all these past months. "This is, I guess, my first time really meeting all of you. It was Vito who you've all known and met and followed throughout the years. I don't know how that rocket did it, but now, Vito's gone."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the Varia arc ends. 
> 
> I’d love to get some feedback on any reader’s thoughts on the story thus far. What you liked or disliked, what you think could be improved, what you’d like to see more of in the future, etc. I never really expected this story to become my most popular one, but I’m enjoying writing it. I’ve got a messy outline of more half-baked ideas I want to cover with KHR and Mafia, so I'll keep this story going for as long as I can. 
> 
> Next time, the KHR crew will be dealing with the fallout of Vito's disappearance and Tsuna taking his place, all in the next arc: Twilight Skies.


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